


This Heart Beats for Another

by Cakechef



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Acceptance, Bisexuality, Bottom Louis, Cliche, Cocky Harry, F/M, Falling In Love, Fanfiction, Gay, Heartbeats, Heartbreak, M/M, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Romance, Top Harry, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-07-12 07:56:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15990959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cakechef/pseuds/Cakechef
Summary: Whilst Louis Tomlinson is physically suffering with a condition, Harry Styles is emotionally suffering from an event that changed his life forever, and may eventually change Louis'.Everyone has their own problems and they can't always be solved... sometimes you just need someone else.Was it their differences that brought them together, or was it fate?





	1. Prologue

Turmoil filled the sky as much as it filled the car.

Rain droplets trickled down the windows of the small car as bright lights appeared in the sky, and thunder could be heard momentarily after the blue and white hued streaks of light overwhelmed the dark void above the vehicle. The raindrops pounded on the metal of the car, creating short sonorous pops one after the other within it. But above it all, the green-eyed man driver the vehicle and the passenger were arguing tuning out the environment and its conjured sounds.

"We have to do something about our mother, David," Harry looked tilted his head towards his younger brother, trying not to disturb his focus from the road.

"I know! But she is too fragile right now," argued David. "I'm scared that she will do what she did last year."

"She is also too self-destructive to be left alone. Can't you understand that?" Harry's voice deepened, creating a demanding tone.

"Anyone would be after what had happened," David mumbled crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows. "Doesn't that obviously mean that we have to be there for her during her hardest times?"

"Look, I understand what you are trying to say, I really do," Harry started with a sympathetic voice, "but-"

"Then why can't you understand that we need to be with her?" David questioned abruptly. "It's almost like you don't believe in family."

Harry sighed at the remark. "After our father died three years ago she hasn't been herself. No one would after such an event, but it has been three years," Harry quickly turned his head to lock eyes with David, noticing the red despair building in his eyes. "And every day on the anniversary of his death she drinks herself into harm. You remember last year when she almost attacked you. I can't – I won't let that happen again. Especially after how I reacted and froze without doing anything." Harry looked at the road again and extended an arm towards his brother to create solace through his action.

David turned around in a disregard of the offered comfort and leaned against the window, curling his legs up to his chest, enhancing the notable delicate body posture of his already frail build. His face periodically flashed from the warm lights illuminating from the light posts. Silence grew, creating a lonely atmosphere, even when they were both present, but the lonely air was soon filled by loud thunder and cold rain against the metal again.

Harry heard a sniffle from David. "I'm sorry," the younger's voice trembled. "It's just that every year I can't stand looking at our mother hurting herself." David turned his face towards Harry with a single tear slowly slithering down his cheek.

Harry took his focus off of the road to look at his brother. "It's fine. I understand what you are feeling. I also go through the same every year, so you're not alone in this, okay? We will get through this together. I won't leave you behind this time." Harry gave a reassuring smile, comforting his younger brother.

"Thank you," David softly replied, returning the smile. He slowly looked towards the road and his eyes widened as two huge light rays blinded his sight. "Harry!"

Harry's head jerked in the direction of the front window, and before he could react with the slightest movement of a finger, a loud crash was heard.

Harry's eyes slowly opened, his vision blurred. His breathing was rapid. As his eyes regained focus, he clenched them shut, before noticing his surroundings, and tilted his head back through his scream. Blood trickled down from his forehead and his right arm was bent backwards from his elbow, revealing the tip of a bone. He let out whimpers through his bloodcurdling screams and intense tears.

He opened his eyes again, frantically looking around the car. Fire and smoke emanated from the car, and burning plastic and metal engulfed him, causing him to cough. He stopped and stared at a horrific sight. His younger brother's pink cheeks were pale, and his body completely motionless.

With his right free leg, he painfully carried it over to the passenger seat and weakly kicked David's foot. "D-D...." Harry found it difficult to form words. "David?"

There was no response. Just a lifeless body impaled with an unrecognizable metal structure. The green marbles of the long-haired man were covered in transparent tears. "No... please don't leave me now... not when I need you..." Harry whimpered, and his heart almost burst through his chest. No sounds could no longer able to come out of his mouth.

A final lightning strike thundered through the sky before the sirens of an ambulance could be heard in the distance.

\---*---*---*---

Harry jolted in his bed, suddenly sitting upright. It was difficult for him to breath as sweat gathered in his shirt and bed sheets. He instinctively put his hand on his chest and could feel his heart burst in sorrow with each beat.

Without making a sound, Harry bent his knees and locked them with his arms, feeling tears gather in the wells of his eyes, before falling off his chin. 

\---*---*---*---

The fog simmered and danced low across the wet grass, whilst the Priest was reciting a piece from the Bible, and most people were looking down at their black shoes. Their black coats and dresses were damp, and the dark hue increased in colour value due to the water vapour thickening the materials. Harry and his family weren't expressive or 'real' Christians; however, they took slight peace in believing their youngest member had been received at a restful place.

The priest raised his arms towards the sky muttering his final words to the reciting, and he closed his eyes breathing heavily in. "Now, we may begin the eulogies."

Harry was nudged in the shoulder from behind by his older cousin, indicating that he had to go first. He gulped at the fact that he was publicly speaking, yet his gulp mainly consisted of watered mucus, built up from his tears. When the tall figure walked towards the priest, he reached into the left pocket of the dark coat, as his right arm was casted from the injury, and slowly lifted a folded paper.

He opened it, revealing words and small circles of dried tears on the paper across it. He trembled when opening his mouth and tried to speak but quickly closed it with flashing images of the accident. Harry shook his head, trying to focus on his speech.

"David was not only my brother, but..." Harry tried to find the correct words, even when he had prepared a eulogy. Maybe he wasn't searching for the correct words in his pause. Maybe he was searching for something else. His eyes scanned the top reflective part of the casket, wondering if he could have done something different to prevent what had happened. Still, he didn't know if he was searching for an answer to that question. If he was, he would be searching his entire life.


	2. Six Months Later

Louis grunted and turned in his pillow as his alarm clock woke him with a stinging noise, laying lazily and now motionless not wanting to move another inch. The alarm on the small bedside table rang again, this time louder, making Louis sigh in irritation as he draped his arm over his face after having turned to his back. He let the weight of his arm fall over the bedside table, hoping to stop the alarm, but to no avail. Louis pushed air out of his nose, trying to sound indignant like an angry bull. Raising his head, Louis squinted avoiding the stream of sunlight that had slithered through a small parted area between the two curtains, which made his colourless room reflect a bright marmalade hue.

He reached over and adjusted his tangled pyjama shirt before the alarm was turned off. Using his arms, the walnut haired young adult pushed himself up against the hard bed backboard and cleared his throat of morning mucus. His eyes hadn't adjusted yet to the orange filling his room, so he rubbed them with clenched fists, blinking after the pressure on his eyes had left with the lowering of his arms. Before stepping out of his favorite cozy place, he cracked his knuckles, popping the final tired area of his body.

Louis swung his legs over the edge of his bed, making him sit with his head down and his arms resting beside him, yawning out his sleepiness. The blue marbles in his eyes were suddenly staring at the ceiling as he jerked his head backwards in pain. His breathing increased and made a rhythmic rasping sound with torment filling his chest. Louis grabbed the left side of his chest, clenching it with his fingers and his nails digging into his skin. Louis could almost feel his heart turning in his lower chest through his heavy breathing. Gritting his teeth, Louis pulled the top drawer of his bedside table, making it squeak, and he hastily grabbed the blue bottle with long informative paragraphs of text. Letting go of his chest, he opened the lid and poured out two white circular pills into his hand with trembles almost compelling him to drop his prescription.

Louis squeezed his eyes shut and placed the two pills on his tongue, before chugging water out of his glass, which he always keeps next to his bed. Louis took deep breaths in through his nose and let it out from his mouth, in attempt to calm himself waiting for the painkiller to soothe the internal burning. Once he could feel his heart beating with palpitations consisting of a decreasing sting, he swiped the collected sweat off of his brow and forehead with the back of his hand.

The attack was worse than the last time and Louis knew it. He knew his heart was weakening from the infection and damage, and each hour of every day, Louis became increasingly scared his heart would fail. The thought grew darker in his head, forming tears in his eyes, but before one could fall, he dried his eyes by wiping them.

"I can't let my mom see me like this...' Louis whispered. 'I can't let her know I have had another attack. She will be mortified.' Louis didn't want his mom, Anna, to get more worried than she already is with Louis' condition. Or his dad for that matter, who is currently in Iraq serving as a trauma surgeon for soldiers wounded on the battlefield.

Louis shook his head, forming his face that can be perceived as a 'normal' façade, and he put his weight on his feet trying to balance. Momentarily after he had stood upright, his right knee faltered from the previous quiver of his body. Louis grunted as he fell onto the wooden bedside table, supporting his fall with his collapsed arms.

"Fuck," Louis said under his breath. Without hesitation, hoping Anna didn't hear the fall, he pushed himself to his original position and stood for a brief period of time regaining his posture. When Louis was sure his legs wouldn't topple, he raised his right leg and started to walk towards his door. Louis reached out with his arm but hesitated slightly, sighed and turned the knob to the upstairs hallway from his bedroom.

Once Louis had set his first step on the marble tiled floor to the living room he heard his mother humming a tune which reminded him of the unifying voices of his parents singing their own song to him when he was a child. The recognizable notes tugged a smile on Louis' face as he walked into the kitchen, where Anna was using the stove to cook some eggs. He leaned against the opened door frame with his shoulder.

"Smells delicious," Louis said whilst making an exaggerated 'smelling' noise through his nose, and coincidently, Anna turned with the pan the moment Louis made his remark.

"Well, my cooking tends to please," Anna jokingly said in an egotistical tone, walking to the circular table placed within the middle of the kitchen, covered with a white simplistic sheet. She carefully slid the sunny-side up eggs from the pan onto a plate, "Well you were just in time for your breakfast, Louis."

"Thanks, mom," Louis replied, giving an appreciative smile. He turned around to go to the tall, transparent enclosed cupboard to get a milk glass. His hand was wrapped around the handle to the cupboard.

"Sweetheart. What happened to you back?" Anna startled Louis with the question.

"What do you mean?" Louis casually asked to calm the concerning tone in Anna's voice, and he let go of the cupboard handle as he turned to look into her eyes.

"Your back was wet. Were you sweating?"

"Oh... yeah... um... I moved quite a lot during my sleep tonight I guess," Louis spoke his sentence with pauses not knowing what to say too.

"Well, you don't normally sweat that much from moving while sleeping."

"Maybe the air conditioner was off."

"I remember turning it on before I went to bed yesterday." Louis swallowed in angst of Anna asking about his condition. Louis silently sighed when he heard his mother ask, "Was it an attack? Was it your Myocarditis?"

"Mom, listen... I don't want you to worry but-"

"Oh my god," Anna's face dropped. "Are you okay? Has it subsided? Did you take your medication?"

"Mom, stop. You ask too many questions when you get stressed." Louis walked over to Anna. "Seriously, don't worry. I'm fine," he comforted his mother in a tight hug, so she could feel his heartbeat through his chest. "You see? It's still beating normally."

"Okay. I believe you," Anna pulled away from the hug. "It's just... that was your third attack this month. Your heart can't handle much more before-before-"

"Stop thinking about what might happen," Louis interrupted to ease her concern. "You get more stressed that way."

"I'm sorry."

"Hey. Mom. I'm going to school, and I will come back and tell you all about my first day at the Oxford University for language and literature." Louis walked back to the cupboard and filled the glass with milk, before sitting down allowing the aroma of eggs fill his nose.

"Okay," Anna finally said after standing still for a moment. "I'm glad we live so close to the school, so I can support you through your condition."

"Hey mom, don't think about it."

"Fine. I will be waiting for when you get back home then," her voice lightened again, and Louis replied with a small grin as he cut into his eggs allowing the yellow yoke to pop and slowly pour over the egg whites. For a moment, Louis thought the yoke resembled his heart. One day it could ache again, but sweat would not be the only liquid which poured through and out of him, like the yellow covering the white body of the egg. Blood would be next.


	3. Brown Locks

Louis shivered as cold air kissed his neck, compelling him to cross his arms over his chest. It was baffling how it was practically the beginning of autumn and close to the end of warmer winds, yet the weather caused his scruffy hair to almost crystalize from the droplets of water still present after his shower. The leaves on the oak trees, which were systematically and perfectly planted in symmetry on both sides of the thin street, were gently swaying in the direction of the wind. They would occasionally fall to the concrete pathway, forming compact amber and yellow piles, whilst some fallen leaves were blown across the street toward Louis' feet.

Louis attempted to fix his messy hair, but to no avail, the morning brisk made it more unrecognisable, making him sigh in defeat as he lowered his eyes. He watched his feet rhythmically moving back and forth without breaking their tempo, his consciousness slowly losing focus of the world around him. Lost in thought – not really thinking about anything or something rather important – Louis managed to block out the sound of grass trimmers on the wet and emerald green back or front yards, feelings of the cold bites from the air and most of his other senses, unaware of the activities occurring around him.

"Watch out!"

Louis fell onto his rear onto the pavement, being pushed over by a strong force. "Oh my god! Are you alright, Louis?" The sound of an elderly man with distress and an identifiable rasp in his voice was heard, as quickened footsteps approached Louis.

Louis opened his eyes and blinked, seeing the raspy-voiced man in front of him. "Oh, Mr. Williams, I am fi-"

Before being able to finish a sentence, Louis was cut off with the feeling of a warm tongue examine his face in, what seemed like, joy, also forcing him to clench his eyes shut again. Louis burst out laughing as he was pushed backwards by a big body. "Pecker! Stop." Despite of Mr. Williams' demanding command, the golden dog continued his 'examination.' Louis could feel saliva building on his face, puffs of hot breath slightly warming it, and he was unable to sit upright due to the weight of the large Golden Retriever.

The elder man forcefully pulled Pecker's collar, the dog responded with a choking sound as he was carried off of Louis. Using his jacket, which he had pulled slightly over the back of his hand, Louis wiped his eyelids, opening them to see the short structure of Mr. Williams, covered with a thin coat, wearing his round glasses, which was placed further down his nose than usual. Also, in front of him stood the cheerful animal, oscillating his tail back and forth as his chocolate, brown eyes bore into Louis'. "I'm so sorry. Pecker just jolted across the street to you once he saw you. I tried to warn you, but he was at your feet and pushing you over before you were able to respond."

Louis brushed his hand through the thick, yet silky and smooth fur of the retriever as he stood up and regained his posture, before Louis directed his vision onto Mr. Williams, still retaining a smile. "Don't worry about it. No harm was done. I mean, all he wanted was just a bit of fun," Louis looked down and extended his arm, playfully rubbing the dog's back, as if reverting to him, "right Pecker?"

"I guess you too made quite the bond when you took care of him that month."

"Yeah, I guess we did. I love him though," Louis raised himself again, looking down at the elderly, "so nothing that he does is every perceived negatively."

"Next time, I'll ensure he is on a leash when you walk by, so you don't have to be bothered this early in the morning."

"Seriously, I don't mind Pecker's sudden visits at my face," Louis chuckled with Mr. Williams.

"Okay, but next time, just look out for a fast, yellow dog sprinting at you."

"Will do, Sir," Louis replied with a comedic smile. "I should be getting to school. It's actually my first day so I wouldn't want to be late."

Williams looked surprised, as if he was in a reality check. "Oh, yeah, it's that time of the year again. Back to school. Isn't that every student's favourite part of the year?"

Louis internally cringed at the question, remember all of the early mornings and late nights with barely any sleep, but it didn't affect his tone of voice. "Yes. Of course, it is."

"Well. I wouldn't want to be any further of a distraction, so goodbye and good day to you Louis."

"Thanks. You too Mr. Williams.

And so, the two men parted, one struggling to keep its pet from running to the other, whilst he was back into his faded consciousness, walking with the wind ruffling Louis' usual scruffy hair.

\---*---*---*---

Louis froze in his tracks as he turned on the pathway and was greeted by a large arch made with stone possessing values of brown and grey, that was enriched in intricate designs of geometric curves that oddly presented with slight cubism-inspired aesthetics. Right above the opening to the arch a glass pained window displayed of several characters illustrated in peculiar positions, but still created a pleasant appeal. A lonely yet inviting glass ball was hung from the top of the archway with a moderately rusted chain, which contained an unused candle. It probably emits light as a fake flame, Louis thought.

Without moving an inch, even with the cold wind slithering across his skin, Louis gazed and examined the structure. It was as if he was nervous to walk through, the vibe enhancing through his brittle sigh.

"It's rather daunting, isn't it?" Louis slightly jumped to the touch of a strong hand on his shoulder, and the sudden question was intimidating due to the deep voice it came from. He turned around in suspicion with his hand on his chest, calming his quickening breath, almost scared he would experience another attack from his condition.

Obtaining a clear view of the stranger was even more intimidating. His tall figure seemed as if it was leaning over him. Louis noticed his piercing, green eyes, which were relatively hypnotizing, but he managed to continue his study of the other's physique. Long, brown hair stemmed from his head and rested on his shoulders, curling in small groups towards the tips of them. Even though he had a defined, chiselled jaw, his friendly smile still formed an adorable and prominent dimple on his left cheek, which both brought comfort to Louis and decreased the intimidation the stranger had previously exhibited. Bringing his view from his face, Louis managed to get a glimpse of the stranger's body, and even though he was wearing a turquoise jumper, his muscles were visible through them. Louis felt a defining heat radiate from the stranger. He couldn't tell what it was, but he could feel it.

Louis snapped his eyes to the hand that was raised and extended towards him, before shaking it.

"Hey. Sorry for startling you. My name's Styles. Harry Styles." The confident tone of his voice and the wording of his sentence made Louis feel he was in a James Bond movie.

"No worries, pal. My names Louis Tomlinson," he finished with a returning smile as he let go of Harry's solid grip.

"I just thought it would be fitting to introduce myself after I saw you get tackled by a dog further down the street," Harry chuckled.

Louis' face flushed with embarrassment. "Why is that fitting?"

"It's always fun to have a clumsy friend," the long-haired man grinned.

"Excuse me," Louis altered his tone in a defending manner. "That was the dog's fault, not mine."

"You should have been able to stay on your feet, in my opinion. It was only a Golden Retriever," Harry jokingly said.

"Those are considered to be a large dog breed with a lot of power," Louis furrowed his eyebrows in a light-hearted fashion.

"Yeah, right," Harry rolled his eyes in his sarcastic comment.

"Well, let's see how you do if I release a large dog on you."

"Probably won't move an inch. Relax, I'm only joking," Harry made another chuckle. "To be honest, I thought it was actually fitting to introduce myself since we are neighbours. That's why I saw you topple over with the dog licking your face."

"Oh. Well, hey then." Louis was surprised to hear that Harry was his neighbour, as he had never seen him before.

"So, what are you doing here?" Louis focused on Harry's green marbles.

"Oh, I'm studying here actually. Today is my first day of school."

"Really? No way. Me too," Harry formed an inviting smile with his luscious lips, which Louis just properly noticed. The tender aspect to them made him bite his own in an attempt to stop his sudden bisexual urges. "What are you studying," Harry continued.

Louis managed to avert his eyes from Harry's lips before speaking. "I'm studying language and literature."

"Seriously? Oh my god. I'm studying the exact same."

"Woah. That's pretty cool, I guess," Louis said in a surprised tone, not knowing what to say.

"What? Is it surprising that a guy like me," he lifted his shoulders, "is wasting his looks on writing?"

"Wow. Modesty is something you have acquired."

"I have learned it's always good to tell the truth."

"Well... I don't think everyone finds you that attractive," Louis turned around and started to walk through the archway. He heard Harry's footsteps behind him until he was in front of him and walking backwards.

"Are you sure?" Harry wiggled his eyebrows up and down.

"If you're implying what I think you're implying, then you're wrong. I don't find you that attractive."

As Harry made a fake frown, but quickly grinned as he turned and started to walk next to Louis, Louis knew that he was lying to himself.


	4. Feels Like the First Time

"Please, ensure that you finish this task for next week." Professor Gordan adjusted his square glasses as he was explaining the project. He was standing on a slightly lifted area of the floor, which was situated at the front of the class in front of a dark valued, green chalkboard. "I need to assess your skills in interpreting texts that does not have several parts, unlike a novel, before we move on to them," Gordon articulated.

Louis was placed on the only singular table to the side of the class, as the tables were set in varying directions. He didn't feel displaced or alienated as he was used to be alone due to his condition, in fact, he chose to sit on the specific desk. Not many people wanted to talk to him towards the end of high school when he was first diagnosed. He managed to keep it secretive, but most of the students were too scared to approach him once they saw him being helped to the bathroom after a sudden blood pressure drop. He would regularly need to stay a home for long periods of time, as Louis would occasionally faint after waking up or walking out of his room, the effects fluctuating between days. Even though it has almost been an entire year since he was diagnosed, he was still suffering, but a positive façade is a characteristic he perfected through his condition.

After Louis had taken important notes for the task, he started to zone out – the skill he was most proud of that he had mastered. Without taking notice of the time that had passed, Louis snapped back into reality when he saw the silhouette of his teacher leaning over him.

"Louis?" Professor Gordon questioned waving his hand close to Loui's face.

"Uh... yeah... sorry," Louis stuttered as he felt heat build up in the flesh of his cheeks.

"I was asking you if you wanted to sit next to Harry instead of here alone." Louis made a questioning expression as Gordon pushed his cubist glasses up his nose. "I mean you're sitting here alone," Gordon started but quickly lowered his voice to a whisper, "and you have been staring at him for 5 minutes."

What?! Louis shouted internally at himself. Was I passively staring at Harry in my transe? Louis leaned his head passed Gordon's body to get a glimpse of Harry opposite him, who sitting directly on the other side of the class. Harry wiggled his eyebrows in the exact same way he had done the first time they met. Louis' already burning cheeks almost felt as if they would explode as he obliged Mr. Gordon's question, which sounded more like a command.

Walking over to the spare seat next to the rather attractive man, Louis felt eyes silently laughing at him, his insides almost crippling. Once he had sat down, Louis stared down at the floor next to him averting his sight from Harry as the teacher continued his lecture.

Louis felt a light tap on his shoulder. Turning in embarrassment, Louis avoided the other's eyes as Harry said, smirking, "I'm guessing you like what you see."

\---*---*---*--- 

Louis sat slumped against the backside of his bed and rested his back on a pillow placed between the curvature of his spine and the wooden plate, which made his work less straining on his back. It had only been a week since he began his education and he had already been assigned to write a critical response to an article they had looked through within their class, but the students were required to analyse the source themselves to discuss and evaluate its main ideas and illustrate their own response and acknowledgement of the text within their essay. Even though this was a regular task several students obtained throughout their Language and Literature course, Louis did not favour these tasks due to their tedious requirements. He, on the other hand, loved letting his imagination flourish through creative writing pieces; however, this first critical response was more of a benchmarking tool for the teacher before they began studying novels and authors – a topic Louis could not resist.

The taps of the silver-coated laptop keyboard were rarely heard, as Louis' curricular thinking was elsewhere and not wrapping itself around the words present in the article. Louis was instead tapping the tips of his feet together to the rhythm of the music that came from his portable radio out of boredom and sighed deeply. When he let go of his breath from the sigh, Louis' throat became rasp and dried up, compelling him to chug some water from his glass which he had re-filled several times while sitting down.

Can you make up your mind, Louis thought. England, Louis addressed the country as a person, you have the most unpredictable weather you indecisive piece of crap. Last week you had me shivering whilst I was just walking to school, and now you're acting like you just hit the boiling Summer as if it was puberty.

Louis' mom, Anna, creaked the door open, causing him to sit in an intellectual looking posture, as if he was engaged in his work. She stepped in, holding a large, limp, woven bag which portrayed floral patterns across them, and a light, cotton dress that illustrated similar designs was draped from her shoulders down to the middle section of her shins, resting sunglasses on her head.

"Mom, why do you need sunglasses inside?" Louis questioned in with a sardonic smile.

"Obviously I'm planning to go out," Anna remarked, emphasising on 'obviously'. "I was wondering if you wanted to come with me. I wanted to look through the new market they had set up here at the beginning of autumn." Anna held a half-smile whilst standing in the doorway.

"In this unbearable weather?" Louis morphed his face into a surprised look as he pointed through the window.

"Are you not exaggerating a bit, Louis? It's not that bad." Anna stepped closer to her son.

"You know why I'm susceptible to warm weather more than others," Louis lowered his eyes from his mother as the unfairness in the situation which coloured his mind with guilt beginning to fill in.

"Yes..." Anna sat on the edge of Loui's bed and placed her hand on his shoulder, conveying a sympathetic gesture and tone. "Don't worry, you'll get more used to it as you recover from your condition."

Louis looked up at Anna again, his eyes filled with hope. "And then you can travel across the globe and experience all of these beautiful countries with sandy beaches and golden suns."

Louis lifted one side of his lips as he approved of the idea, creating an accepting smile. "Thanks, mom."

"Well, I better get going before all of the produce is taken before me." Anna stood up and disappeared through the hallway until only the opening and shutting of the front door was heard.

Before turning to his laptop again, Louis took off his shirt and shorts in another attempt to feel cooler. Now sitting in his underwear, he started tapping on his keyboard slowly as his academic brain started to function.

Without any warning, after he started focusing invisible string caught onto Louis' lips and tugged them upwards, as he thought he heard a few lines from one of his favourite songs play softly through the radio. He leaned over and slightly increased the volume to ensure it was the correct tune.

'And I guess that's just the woman in you'

Louis licked his bottom lip as if he was ready to sing the next line.

'That brings out the man in me'

He shook his head in self-disapproval and tried to continue writing.

'I know I can't help myself'

Grunting at himself, feeling as a distraction would obviously occur when he just started focusing on work, Louis gave in started to bob his head side to side to the beat.

'You're all in the world to me'

Before he could comprehend what he was doing, Louis stood up and started to slowly move his body – mainly his pelvis – to the rhythm if the music. He didn't want to risk working his heart too hard, forcing him to dance to the slowest possible tempo to find within the song.

'It feels like the first time

Feels like the very first time

It feels like the first time

It feels like the very first time'

Enveloping his mouth against the words of the song, he kept swaying his hips, removing the previous guilt form his head, and instead the dull colours it provided with bright hues of ecstasy, losing his mind to himself.

Almost halfway through the song, Louis was interrupted by his doorbell. "Is mom back already?" Louis questioned himself in slight disappointment, not wanting to finish what he was doing. Even though Louis loved the song, he lowered the volume before he put his clothes back on and scrambled down the stairs towards the door.

As Louis pulled the handle and could see what was in front of him, his stomach tingled with sensation at the sight of long brown locks. The man pulled a hand through his hair to remove some of it from his face that had fallen, his bicep clenching in his bent arm. Harry's cologne almost pricked Louis' tongue as its strong, masculine scent carried itself through his nose.

"Sorry to disturb you, Louis." The younger awkwardly stood on the other side of the door listening to his voice echoing through Louis' head, their deep tones almost quivering his insides.

"O-Oh, don't worry about it, Harry." Louis tried to smile generously but felt as if he made the other uncomfortable. "Is there anything I can do for you?" He swallowed harder than usual from Harry's piercing eyes.

"Well," Harry started, his voice more confident than Loui's thoughts. "I was just wondering if you could show me around the neighbourhood since I'm new to this area. I just mainly moved here because it was close to school, and for my moth-" Harry shook his head, Louis cocking an eyebrow in response, but didn't want his curiosity to pry on something Harry seemed sensitive on.

"Harry, I really wish I could today, but I really need to finish that assignment we got. How about we do it tomorrow?"

Harry's face lit up with a grin, reducing the overwhelming stare of his eyes. "Sure." Harry suddenly stepped closer and raised his hand to Louis' face, to which Louis chewed on his inner cheek, stopping breath to get caught in his throat. Using his thumb, Harry gently wiped Louis' forehead, almost as if it was a caress. "Did I interrupt some exercise you were doing?" Harry questioned holding his thumb up, which had collected a bit of sweat.

"Oh... Um... yeah I was doing a bit of that and this. You know... trying to stay fit." Lies made by Louis was impossibly easy to read.

Harry smirked, rubbing his thumb across the fabric of his plain, white t-shirt. "You don't have to lie to me, you know? Don't worry, I'm a big fan of Foreigner."

"Excuse me," Louis felt nervous bile in his throat as Harry walked down his pathway, but quickly turned.

"You can shake your booty pretty good. Especially in your underwear. Even when you were moving kind of slow." Embarrassment flushed Louis' face as his jaw dropped. "Maybe next time you should close your curtains before others get a glimpse of what you're doing," Harry continued to smirk mischievously as he continued down the path.

Louis almost slammed the door in embarrassment and leaned against it. Did he just see me dance in my underwear? Louis hid his face in his hands from himself and lowered himself to the floor, still keeping his back against the door.

Feeling his hot, red cheeks, Louis asked himself, "What have I done?"

Of course, it was Harry that had to see him.


	5. Hot Chocolate

Harry abruptly awoke sitting with his eyes widely open to the sound of screams from another room. They were his mother's. Sweat trickled down from his forehead and had already collected around his shirt whilst he was sleeping. As he rubbed the tired coating of tiredness from his eyes, he noticed his heart was racing almost out of his chest. His recurring nightmare of his brother's final moments on the world plagued his usual sleepless nights and made his cheerful character and portrayal to others dwindle as each night passed. His nightmare always ended with him shouting at a reflection of himself 'It was your fault!' before he would wake up at strange hours of the night.

The chronic screams from the other side of the thick, white painted brick feature wall were substituted by crying and short sniffles. Harry took off his shirt, which was beginning to stick to his body from the drying sweat, but kept on his pyjama shorts, before he stood up and shuffled across his room with haste to get to his mother. The moon layered the white room with glistening, silver and almost transparent light, which slightly illuminated his dwelling area, helping him navigate through his room and the hardwood flooring of the hallway.

Harry wrapped his fingers around the handle to his mother's room and pushed the door open. As he walked in, he saw his mother, Julia, resting her forehead onto her knees which were bent and held together with her arms. Slight sobs came from her and she looked up to see Harry walking towards her and sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Mom," Harry sympathetically said with a slight questioning tone in his voice.

"I had a-a nightmare of-of," Julia was unable to finish her sentence before her tears overwhelmed her speech, and she pressed her head into her knees again.

"I had one too. Mom," Harry started as he raised his arm towards her but stopped when his mother spoke.

"You can't leave me..." her voice was trembling and almost inaudible. "I can't lose you too."

Harry felt his eyes begin to water at the thought of his mother being completely alone. "Mom. Look at me... please."

Julia slowly elevated her head and looked into Harry's reddening eyes, and Harry lifted his hand towards her with his palm facing up. "Put your hand in mine, mom."

Harry's mother placed her shaking hand in the cup of his, bringing solace to her quivering breathing. Julia could feel the comforting stroke of Harry's finger across her palm before he clasped his other hand on top of her. "I promise I will never let go," Harry softly said bringing a contentment in his gaze. "I will always be here to hold your hand like this," Harry slightly turned his hands with hers trying to hide the anxiety he gets from his similar nightmares to his mother's. "I will never let go."

Julia sniffled and could feel the warmth from Harry, as he changed his position to sit next to his mother. She balanced her head on Harry's broad shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her as they slid downwards and lay flat on the bed. Wiping her crystal tears off of her tender cheeks, Julia started to drift off into the abyss of sleep, but with welcoming colours which were not previously present. Taking now relaxed and controlled breaths, Julia fell asleep, smiling at the promise Harry had given her.

\---*---*---*---

"Okay, so for this next writing piece, you have to interview the person sitting next to you. One of you decides who should be the interviewer and who should be the interviewee." Louis turned his sapphire eyes towards Harry, who was sitting on his left and his focus was on the teacher, temporarily keeping his back to Louis. "Your interview should orient around a theme present within the novel Stealing Phoenix. Once you have done this, then you have to create a 10-minute presentation on your theme that links back to the interview, as these should be supporting analytical pieces to your statements." The professor adjusted his glasses in the usual motion he chronically carries out before continuing to read a piece of paper, which explained the task.

Louis examined Harry.

Focusing on his attire, Louis noticed that he was sporting a bright, orange t-shirt with floral designs. How can Harry pull that off? Louis lost himself in his internal examination. He can wear almost anything and still be a sexy b- Louis' thought was interrupted when Professor. Gordan clapped his hands together after having completed in explaining the task. Louis decided it was for the best he didn't get to finish his last thought. He did find Harry attractive; his near perfect features illustrated across his body, which even though Louis could not see, his imagination took him somewhere he might not want to be.

As Louis turned his head, not wanting to go deeper into his 'creative' mind, he got a glimpse of Damian grinning at him. Damian was wearing a leather jacket over his dark t-shirt, and the classroom fluorescent light created a shimmer in the quiff of his cinnamon coloured hair. Louis felt cold fingers grip his emotions from the grin he had plastered onto his face. It was almost sinister. And the faded but prominent scar which indented slightly across the top of his left eye enhanced the shiver of Louis' breath.

Looking back at Harry, Louis shook his head and forgot about Damian when he saw Harry's cheeks lifted, creating a smile on his face. "So, I guess we will be interviewing each other then?"

"Oh, yeah. Do you have an idea on a theme we could use and follow?" Louis questioned.

"I'm not exactly sure yet. How about you? Have you picked a theme we could use?"

"I suggest that we could probably be doing soulmates as the theme since it's very prominent throughout the story," Louis aforementioned without hesitation.

"How fun," Harry said with a cheeky tone to his voice, followed by a slight grin, causing Louis to arch an eyebrow.

"Why are you making that smile?" Louis asked trying not to meet Harry's eyes.

"I know you like it." Harry pulled one side of his lips upwards, creating a mischievous look.

"Can you stop with that?"

"With what?"

"Thinking that I like everything you do and you so badly?"

"Is it wrong to speak the truth?"

"I don't even know your name. Wasn't it Parry, or something like that?"

"Stop lying to yourself."

Louis rolled his eyes and sarcastically grunted, packing his school bag to the sound of the bell.

\---*---*---*---

Louis was strolling through the hallway from his finished class towards the main exit. The floor was layered with a soft coloured stone brick, which had been recently washed as it glossed against the shimmer of the natural lighting. The walls contained several, systematically placed archways that led to the central grass area with old oak trees that had bark peeling off. Some students were studying or either leisure reading under the comfort of the warm sun before glistening, white snowflakes would start swaying down from the sky as winter soon approached.

Before Louis had reached the main exit, he heard fast squeaks of shoes against the brown, tiled floor approach him. Secretly hoping it was Harry, he turned around casually to seem 'normal' – something he believed he was at times far from, not only because of his usual awkwardness but especially due to his Myocarditis.

Louis felt the same shiver and cold finger brush against his back and down his spine, forming small clusters of goosebumps, as he saw Damian portraying the same sinister grin as before in class. His leather jacket was zipped halfway up his torso, partially revealing the white-lined pattern on his black t-shirt. Each step closer to Louis, the chain that hung from the rim of Damian's pants clicked together and rattled against his leg. His cinnamon quiff was stiff, even through the fast-paced walk, as the sun rays created streamlines of light across his hair, in similar fashion the classroom light had outlined it earlier.

"Hello," Damian's grin continued through his words.

"Yeah... what do you want?" Louis felt an anxious lump form in his throat, even though the only word Damian had said was 'hello.'

"I can see the way you look at Harry in class." Louis bit the inside of his cheek.

"Umm... Excuse me?"

"You don't have to pretend," Damian said almost impatient. "I can see that you admire him."

No sound came from Louis, but it was noticeable that a slight pink value formed on his cheeks. "Even if I did, you seem pissed at me about it."

"I just don't want you to get attached to the wrong kind of people." Damian morphed his face into a blank one, and the previous menacing threat that radiated from him became more serious.

"What's that's supposed to mean?"

Damian sighed quickly, glancing at his feet as if he was trying to find the correct words. He looked up at Louis, parted his lips to begin speaking, but before he could say anything, a deep, clear voice came from behind me.

Louis turned on the edge of the heel to his shoes to face the person.

"What are you doing, Damian? Here to bully someone else are we now." Harry was walking towards Damian and Louis in a proud yet intimidating strut.

When Louis turned to look at Damian, he was already walking away, but halfway through his next step, he turned and whispered, "Don't make the wrong decisions."

"Yeah. Run away, Damian." Louis felt the warm presence of Harry to his left.

Turning and tilting his head upwards in Harry's direction, Louis asked, "Is everything okay between you two?"

Seconds of silence carried through the atmosphere. "Damian used to be my bully back in high school."

"Wait, really?" Harry nodded his head without saying anything. "And I'm guessing you both obviously had to go to the same university."

"That's just how life works. Damian was always the popular drama king throughout all years of high school. He was the top bitch." Louis lifted one side of his forehead in curiousness. It hadn't seemed like Damian was being a bitch or wanted to bully Louis once he started talking. The context of their conversation made Louis want to interrogate Harry on the situation and what Damian had said but was unable to before Harry continued. "I guess he just likes to pick on anyone who is either bisexual or homosexual."

Louis instantly lifted his eyebrows to the widening of his eyes. "Wait. How does Damian know that I am... how do you even know?"

"Louis, I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but rumors are almost the social foundation to schools now."

"It hasn't even been a full semester yet. And... I haven't told anyone." Louis astonished tone intensified as Harry looked specifically and directly into Louis' eyes.

"Well, that's why they are called rumors. You know, they aren't always true."

Louis took a step back from Harry as he felt his tall, slim and intimidating structure was almost towing over him. "So, if he used to bully you back in high school... does that mean that you are-"

"Yup," Harry interrupted with a slight nod of his head. Before Louis could process the intimate pieces of information that was just shared between the two of them, Harry turned his entire body to face Louis and began to speak. "So, when and where do you want to do our interview?"

"Oh right. The interview." Louis raised his left towards his face, acquiring a glimpse of his traditional wristwatch. The leather strap was tight around his wrist, ensuring the pin locked into the hole furthest down the brown, rectangular connective piece to help fill his thin wrist into the watch. "Umm. I'm actually free to do it today if you are."

"Oh, awesome," Harry smiled. "I think I can definitely do it today."

"How about the park on 5th street?"

"The park?" Harry sounded confounded."

"What? It helps me focus sometimes. Besides, you had wanted m to show you around the neighborhood, so this can act as our starting point or area."

"Don't worry. I'm not surprised or anything. I just have never studied outside before actually when I think about it."

"Well, there is a first time for everything. Can we meet there at around 3:30PM?"

"Yes, of course. I'll see you then." 

\---*---*---*---

The skies were an electric blue and the breeze carried through the clouds in the sky, subtly forming bloated shapes, pulling and messing through Harry's brown locks. This was Louis' favorite type of weather as the intense blue colour of the sky almost twinkled surreal lights against the glass of windows in the compound. Even though the wind whistled in his ears, prickling the skin and nibbling on the tips of them with a small sting of cold, Louis adored the hues nature could offer through its weather, making October one of his favorite months.

Louis walked up towards a small rise in the terrain with an alienated, large oak tree. Its leaves had begun to fall off, forming orange and yellow fields across the nearby grass. Harry followed closely behind.

"Why don't we lay down here or something? It looks like a nice spot," Louis suggested, observing the inches of the grass on the small hill.

"Yeah, sure," Harry simply said, not having much of a preference.

Sitting against the dry trunk of the overlooking tree, Harry and Louis began to unpack their bags. Louis took out a tape recorder and a neatly folded paper, which contained all of the questions. Harry, instead of unpacking any tools for work, he instead lifted a cylinder, metal bottle.

"What's that for?" Louis questioned as he stroked his fingers against the metal, feeling heat radiate from it.

"I just thought, since it is a pretty cold day, it would be nice with something warm to drink whilst we work," Harry explained with optimism.

Louis tugged on the side of his lips. "And what secret beverage is kept within this bottle?"

"Hot chocolate."

"Wow... that's actually one of my favorite drinks. How did you know?" Louis questioned as if he knew Harry was making something for them.

"I know many great things."

"Oh, really? I guess you're a man of many talents too, huh?"

"Spot on."

"You are sometimes so full of yourself. Did you know that?"

"Hmm. It never crossed my mind."

As Harry grinned, Louis shook his head and began setting up the recorder. Once it was complete, they both were laying down in the grass, observing the sky, as Louis pressed the record button.

Louis went through all of the questions completely professional and Harry answered with exemplary comments to the questions. Louis began to ask his final question to the interview, "Even though the soulmates theme has a distinct characteristic and defining feature within this novel, as we had discussed previously, what is the definition of soulmates to you personally?"

"It's a..." Harry hesitated for a moment. "Well, it's like a best friend but more. It's the one person in the world who knows you better than anyone else. It's someone who makes you a better person. Actually, they don't make you a better person, you do that yourself because they inspire you. A soulmate is someone who you can carry with you forever. It's the one person who knew you and accepted you..." Harry took a deep breath in. "And believed in you before anyone else did, or when no one else would. And no matter what happens..." Louis etched towards Harry through each of his sentences. His excuse was the cold wind so he wanting body heat, but he knew he was lying as Harry lets his head fall in the direction of Louis before he continued. The dimple was again denting into his left cheek. "you will always love them." Forgetting that the tape recorder was still on, Louis again slowly moved closer to Harry's body. "Nothing can ever change that."

Louis noticed a glisten in his intense and affixed eyes. It seemed like a shimmer of longing or something he wanted, something he didn't have for a long time. Could it be a soulmate? No. He is always so cheerful. He probably has a lot of friends outside of school. Louis broke his trance from his eyes as Harry started to speak.

"Louis..." Harry locked eyes with Louis. The tips of their noses almost touched, and the wind brushed Harry's curls on Louis' cheeks. Staring into his grass eyes, Louis felt an ecstatic current run from the base of his belly to the top of his head, switching his eyes onto Harry's luscious lips, which were slightly opened, before he continued his sentence "Why are you laying so close to me?"

Louis was unable to form words, each one of them stumbled over his lips without enunciating any of them. "I... I - I... Don – I... what?"

"Would you want me to kiss you?"

Louis' mind was an ocean settled with a storm, not knowing what to think, say or do. A moment of tense, what seemed like passion, filled the air in between them.

"Well. Since you can't make up your mind, I'll have to wait for you." Harry turned his head to look up towards the white clouds. "I won't have to wait for too long."

Wiggling his body, Louis moved away from Harry. "Can you seriously stop being so annoying?"

"What have I done now," Harry created a tone wanting to seem unaware of what he was doing.

"You keep thinking I have this deep desire for you when I really don't," Louis began his first lie. "You're not that attractive," Louis stated his second lie. "And I sometimes dread being with you." Then he blurted out his third lie. "You even asked me if I wanted to kiss you, and you..." Louis' mind began to become blank, and his sentence started to slow down to the sound of Harry's chuckle," didn't... even know... what I felt."

"Why are you laughing now?" Louis tried to sound frustrated but felt as if Harry could see straight through it and his lies.

"You do realise that even if I didn't ask you and just did it, you wouldn't have flinched away from me, but most likely further towards me."

Louis narrowed his eyes, trying to portray anger, furiousness or anything that didn't make him seem as if he agreed, before standing up and dominantly walking away.

"Where are you going?" Harry raised his voice but kept it calm.

"I can't stand you right now," Louis said without turning around.

"Come on. I know you like me."

As frustrating as it was, Harry was saying the truth.


	6. Warzone

The setting sun decorated the clouds with a veil of light red clouds which bled across the sky, punctured and illuminated by splinters of magenta coloured rays. The knives of the purplish-red hues travelled through Louis' window, creating transparent folds, which conveyed of an almost spiritual atmosphere with harmonising compassion between the values of the rays that emitted a relaxing effect.

He was sitting on his wide desk with papers from varying classes, mainly those from his language and literature class spread out across his desk. Louis' pens and pencils were scattered across the glossed and light umber wood of his desk and over important or insignificant papers. His thin and light laptop was set up next to his file folders and industrialized holders, which didn't overflow yet with finished assignments that should be kept in other compartments, but his lack of organization skills when it comes to filing papers were atrocious. I need to clean this up when I'm done, Louis internally noted to himself. Nah, he instantly replied in his head. Louis was glad his laptop wasn't a massive tool, as his Myocarditis wouldn't allow him to carry heavy objects for prolonged periods of time, which could possibly tire his almost broken heart. Literally and not poetically.

At the far corner of his table rested the small rectangular recording device that he and Harry had used the previous day. Louis glanced at the opaque glass material, seeing the reflection of his messy table and his petite face. He raised his arm to the sound of Harry's words in his question, echoing in his head. 'Would you want me to kiss you?'

An inside tempest rose controversial and ambiguous feelings, which he could not quite define. Harry made Louis feel a way he was unable to define or describe. He wanted to play the recording again to hear that sentence. His words. His voice. Louis thought that Harry was talking to him. Louis shook his head as his trembling finger touched the cold glass-like material, which glossed the black colour of the tape recording before he was able to press the play button. He was unsure as to why he was trembling. What am I doing? Why am I so irrational?

The sound of a small bubble popped, indicating a new message, simultaneously to the buzz of his phone, moving Louis' phone an inch towards the left. Louis thought it was best he was interrupted from his illogical thinking and picked up the phone. He read a reminding message, which indicated the time of day he was required to take his daily dose of angiotensin-converting enzyme inhibitors and beta blockers. Louis stood up and walked towards his bedside table and pulled the top drawer open to reveal three bottles of pills; two yellow and one blue.

Using his dominant hand, Louis held the two yellow tainted cylindrical pill cases, and before he placed them on the table from which they came, he squinted his eyes to read the long medical title of the pills, which to him, sounded scarier than they were required to be. Pulling the white, plastic lid off of the first pill bottle, Louis shook it, forcing several minute pellets that were enclosed in the transparent synthetic material to fall into his hand. He used his index finger and thumb on his left hand to carefully pick out two of the identical pills, before using his fingers to roll the excess pills into the bottle for later uses, ensuring that his unsteady hands displayed of minimal shaking.

Louis softly licked his dry and chapped lips, moisturizing them before swallowing the pills, pretending it would make the manure-like taste of the pills not come in contact with his delicate palette. He placed the capsules on his tongue and immediately engulfed water, trying to inhibit the sour puncturing and stinging taste of the medicine. Even though the pills travelled instantly down Louis' throat, the stream of water bore the aftertaste through its witness, which enveloped Louis' internal walls. Having taken the exact same pills with exact same medicinal purposes during the exact same times of each day still left Louis in a horrible grudge against them.

The sting of the pills compelled a crease to form in between his eyebrows, his cheeks to lift up toward his eyes, closing them shut in detest and his face to clench towards the central crinkling of his nose. He could feel a gagging reflex to form in the centre of his stomach, but he bit the inside of his cheek as he gulped the gag down into the base of his torso. "Jesus... I am never going to get used to those, am I?" Louis questioned himself. Louis shook his head, almost jerked it, side to side to counter the shiver that was traveling up his spine, holding the small amount of hair on his back on their edge.

He proceeded to swallow the second set of pills, which were the beta blockers; however, they did not embrace Louis' mouth and throat in a stench which you could taste. In fact, they did not possess any particular taste. They were bland, much like their colour – white. Louis pushed the pill bottles into the darkness of his drawers, which occasionally protruded a formaldehyde aroma, before slamming the drawers shut, not wanting to be in the viewing vicinity of the nasty abominations to exist in one's drawers. He subtly smiled at the thought that he only needed to see them again at 5:30PM tomorrow.

"Louis!" He turned his head towards his bedroom door to the calling from Anna, his mother, her usual mellow voice resonating even through a shout. Louis responded by shuffling to his door and peering his head through the crack he made.

"Yes! What is it?" Louis used an equally loud tone to his voice.

"Barry is on Skype now!" Her voice altered to excitement.

"Really?" Louis questioned in surprised as he fast-walked down the stairs. As he reached the kitchen, where his mother was sitting on a tall stool with silver legs and black stump, he saw her smiling into a virtual screen.

"Hello there." The sound of Barry's voice brightened Louis' tender cheeks as he walked up and stood behind his mother. Even though the computer did not allow Louis and Anna to engulf Barry in a hug, the terrible quality video and scratchy voice from his, just from those two words, was enough to remember his warming and joyful presence in the house. "I have missed you both so very much. This dessert isn't much is so barren and absolutely sucks balls."

Anna smiled and chuckled at the incredibly silly comment, and Louis could see wetness starting to form in her eyes from the almost transparent reflection of the screen. "We have both missed you too." A long silence occurred as if my mother and father were staring at each other as if they had just witnessed a miracle or seen each other for the first time again.

I leaned over my mother's rounded shoulder and asked, "How did you get connection again? I thought you didn't have internet anymore out there."

"You know how the internet went out during an intense sandstorm, and the government had to use money on new surgical equipment rather than fixing the transmitter? Well, the soldiers were able to manually fix the transmitter. You know how handy we are."

"Oh wow. Soldiers are truly miraculous sometimes," Louis replied with a comical voice. "Speaking of surgical equipment, how is being a trauma surgeon right in the middle of a war-zone?"

"Yeah. Tell us about that," Anna's fascination rolled on her words.

"Well trauma surgery in Iraq during their civil war is quite... well really it's traumatic. Most of the time, soldiers show up with missing hands, arms, feet and legs, with about three of these surgeries occurring during one day." Before Barry continued, Louis' and Anna's faces morphed into astonishment. Not that they haven't heard of amputations before, but the fact that the war was so severe, causing several people to lose their limbs. "Actually, about a week ago, a soldier came in with only a half a body. She died quickly and there wasn't much we could do, but we tried out best."

"Okay. We don't need to hear any more." Louis' mother protested, holding her hand to her mouth, slightly gripping her cheeks, as if she was preventing gagging from the imagery.

"Louis?"

"Yeah?"

"How is your heart condition? Are you feeling any better?"

"Well... yes. Currently, I haven't had any recent attacks, but my doctor has said that..." a chill grew in the previously warm air, silence engulfing the affectionate atmosphere. "If I experience another series of attacks... I could eventually need a heart transplant."

"Oh..." Barry's voice became sympathetic as he sighed. Anna used her right hand to rub Louis' back in a soothing manner.

"But," Louis started to heat the atmosphere again, "she also said that if I don't experience any attack in the next 6 months, we can reduce the number of medication required during each day. So, that's a plus," Louis lifted his thumbs up and smiled, showing his teeth, trying to lighten the mood further.

"Well... since the internet is running again, you can call me around 10PM, which would be about... 8PM for you guys whenever you would like. Also, you have an amazing mother right there next to you to help you through whatever you need. Even if I am around 40,000km from you, we are both here for you," Barry's sincere voice made Louis' heartbeat softer than it usually would. His heart palpitations decreased to each word his father was saying.

Louis' cheeks lifted. "Thank you, dad. I love you." Another silence of passion grew between the screen and the family that was in England.

Suddenly, a loud crash could be heard in the background of the Skype call, which forced Barry to jerk his head up. "Dad, what was that?" Louis questioned with worry.

"Are you okay?" Anna quickly followed.

Another loud crash was followed by a gunshot. "Oh shit. Not now."

"Barry, what's happening?" Anna's voice grew in a tremble of fear.

Barry opened his mouth in what seemed like anxiousness to say something, but before he could produce a sound, the screen went black.

"Dad!"


	7. Tuna Sandwich

"Dad!" Louis' voice echoed through the hallways of the house, making the pictures hung on the walls almost shake in dread.

Straight after the shout, silence choked the air. The type of silence that make grey hairs grow up on you. The silence that makes your feet sink into the ground as your heart turns into ice, filling your head with fear. The silence that makes dark tears drip on the floor that has trembled down your face against the pale skin without making any sound.

Louis turned his head to see his mother trying to inhibit her scream from the clasping of her palm over her mouth, but he could still hear them through the silence, punctured by muffles. "What just happened," Anna mumbled into her hand, pushing through a choke that was forming in her throat from her breath.

Louis' heart increased in beats so rapidly he was scared he would tear it with another Myocarditis attack. The blood pumping muscle felt as if it would beat hard out of his chest, with every second his father was gone from the screen. Both stood in the darkness that was filling the kitchen from the almost complete set sun, creating a void of emptiness that was filled with silent tears.

Louis was unaware of how long they had been staring at the screen, not seeing Barry, but rather themselves in the reflection. "Mom," Louis' words staggered off his tongue in his tremble before he continued. "D-did dad's health unit just get a-attacked?"

Lowering her hand from her mouth, Anna spoke but in a soft whisper and said something inaudible to Louis. Then without sating anything else, Anna abruptly bent forward from her seat and started shaking the top half of the laptop. "Barry," she said. "Barry," a little louder. "Barry!" Anna shouted at the screen the third time as if her previous words didn't come through it.

Watching his mother almost break the blank laptop screen in pure sorrow, Louis inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, mainly to restrict his heart from failing, but also to acquire control of the situation. As he exhaled and opened his eyes, Louis felt the air slowly leave his body and his heart was beating in its own usual broken rhythm. He proceeded to envelop his mother a hug from the side not only to comfort her but to also bring her attention away from the screen. She turned with the rotation of her kitchen stool, wrapped her arms around his back and pressed her head against his chest. Her quiet sobs brushed down Louis' shirt.

"Mom," Louis began looking down onto the top of her mocha coloured hair, which was matt in shade, "dad is going to be fine."

She continued to stare down at the floor against him and he could feel a raspiness in her breathing from the touch of her back with his hand.

"Mom. Look up at me."

Her head lifted slowly, until her wet eyes, which were forming red scar-like marks at the corner of them, met with Louis' calming ocean gaze. "You don't need to worry. Dad is going to be fine," he repeated.

"How can you be so sure. You heard what happened."

"Dad has already gotten through a lot." Louis paused with a silent and low lifted smile. "Remember that time at the farm?"

"What are you talking about?"

"When we were having a picnic near the purple lavender field." Louis could make out a very faint smile on Anna's lips as she was beginning to reminisce the moments at the farm. "Dad was eating his favourite tuna sandwich, and then a cow came behind him and took it from him."

"Barry almost got attacked."

"Yes, he did... but he still got his sandwich back." Louis chuckled at the image of Barry holding a wet sandwich and chasing away a large brown and white spotted cow. "You see?"

"Hm?"

"Dad doesn't give up without a fight. Not when there is something worth fighting for. Even if it's just a sandwich."

Louis' sentence, tone of voice and soothing eyes caused Anna's breathing to reflect his; the raspiness coming through her back disappeared and smile lingered on her face. From the corner of Louis' eye, the laptop screen displayed the Skype logo, the iconic bubbly sound soon followed with the name Barry displayed.

"Oh my god! Barry!" Anna abruptly moved from Louis' embrace, and her hand trembling from shock swiftly moved across the trackpad underneath the keyboard. She pressed the green icon, which consisted of a camera logo.

Barry's now dirty face popped into the screen, his mouth was morphed into his usual charming smile, yet he was breathing heavily. "Hey, guys."

"No!" Anna shouted. "You don't get to disappear like that, give us a heart attack and freaking show up with 'hey guys'. Are you an idiot!"

"Mom. Calm down."

"I just can't lose you," her eyes began to well.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here." His grin widened, creating a smug face. "Besides, I'm a strong, muscular soldier. That how I wooed you over as well."

Anna broke into a chuckle with a smile that tear of happiness dropped from.

"Dad. What even happened?" Louis questioned, leaning into the screen over his mother. "We heard a loud crash."

"Well, what happened was that the internet transmitter fell again when strong winds came. We hadn't been able to connect the stabilizing ropes from the connective poles to the ground yet."

"Oh, my god," Louis began, "did anyone get hurt?"

"No. Everyone is fine."

"But we heard a gunshot," Anna quickly followed with a concerning tone to her voice.

"The transmitter fell right in front of one of our sergeants, almost crushed him, and when he jumped away from further damage, his gun fell and accidentally fired a bullet," Barry explained.

"Get that transmitter properly fixed, you useless soldiers," Anna said comedically. "How are you connected to the internet now?"

"One of our soldiers actually packed an external internet source that we are currently using. The connection is crap, but at least is something while we fix the transmitter again."

"Just don't leave us scared like that again, please."

"Noted. I have to go now but I'll talk to you really soon. I love you both. Goodbye," Barry motioned a soldier's salute with his right arm and hand against his low, blue hat.

"We love you too. Get yourself cleaned," Anna and Louis both waved simultaneously at the screen, before hovering over the red button, and ending the call.

\---*---*---*---

Louis was slumped on the couch in the living room, scrolling through Instagram on his phone. He wasn't focused on what he was looking at. He saw each image, but he didn't perceive them. His body was in one place, his mind another. It was fixed on the annoying, arrogant, self-centered Harry Styles. Even though Louis kept getting annoyed at him, or he forced himself to, he persistently thought about him.

Ugh. Why does he have to be so annoying? He always talks about how attractive he is and how much I like him. He does have a fit physique but that doesn't mean he can point out that he... is hot... Louis began to visualise him, his mind trailing off. How he has immersive eyes... perfect teeth... a cute dimple, Louis stroked his own cheek at the thought of Harry's small indent. And slightly curly yet silky long hair that I want to put my hands throu- NO! STOP! Louis' shook his head and internally scoffed at himself. He's... annoying. Yes, ANNOYING, Louis' reassured himself.

His mind travelled from the empty space with no rooms or walls of his subconsciousness back into his live body. After having thought about Harry, Louis decided to try to contact him to continue working on the assignment.

Even though Louis didn't have Harry's contact information, it didn't take long to find him on Instagram through some guess and luck searching. He typed in the username HarryStyles. Nothing similar to the person Louis required showed up. HStyles. Nothing. HarryS. Nothing. By guessing his age, Louis searched HarryStyles1998 and HarryS1998, which both weren't useful profiles. Lastly, using both his thumbs he tapped onto the screen to form the username HStyles98, which was the successful search.

"Oh, shit. I'm Sherlock Holmes," Louis told himself.

Louis quickly glanced over the Instagram account and saw some artistic images of Harry, which were mainly in portraying a majestic theme. His hair usually fluttered in the wind to the side of his face as he gripped the inside of the tips of his pants with his thumbs, standing in a masculine position. Others were simple and more authentic.

Louis went into his direct messages, hoping to get a response.

Louis: Hello. It's Louis. I'm hoping I have found Parry, but from your account, it seems I have found the correct person.

Harry: Ah, the one who doesn't know my real name. To what do I owe this pleasure?

Louis: Wow. So sophisticated.

Harry: Oh, I can do more than make sophisticated dialogue with this mouth.

Louis: EXCUSE ME! I didn't need to know that.

Harry: Come one. You're being overdramatic. People usually love that line.

Louis: Oh. So, I'm not the first one you use it on, you sicko.

Harry: I'm supposed to say no so you don't get jealous.

Louis: Who said I was jealous?! Ugh... Never mind.

Harry: It seems as though my wooing techniques have failed me. That is a rare thing to happen.

Louis: You're such an idiot sometimes, I swear.

Harry: Okay. Seriously. Is there something you wanted to tell me?

Louis: Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to go to the park and work on our assignment, but your arrogance has made me want to not even meet you now. Goodbye.

Louis wanted to end his sentence almost to sound like a threat. He almost wanted to be called for.

Harry: NO... no. Please come back. I promise. I'll behave.

Louis: The fact that you have to say you will behave is worrying.

Harry: Well, some beasts are hard to tame. But some can always calm them.

Louis was unsure of what Harry meant by what he said.

Harry: So where in the park do you want to meet?

Louis: How about our place by the oak tree. Where we were at last time.

Harry: We have our own place now? I like it.

Louis: No. No. I didn't mean it like that. Ugh. Never mind. I'll see you there.

Harry: Goodbye ;).

\---*---*---*---

Louis shuffled along the pear coloured grass, noticing some patches had withered to dull yellows and light browns. He saw Harry sitting up against the trunk of the oak tree with one knee bent up towards his chest, which he rested his arm on. The sun hung low in the sky, ready to be encompassed by the twilight rays.

As Louis walked underneath the widespread branches of the trees, he looked up and through them, observing a broken dark blue sky that was cut by the bare branches with no leaves left from the changing season. "Hello, Parry," Louis said as he walked closer to him.

He opened one eye and turning his head, examining the younger. "You interrupted my nap."

"We're not here to nap."

"Well, sometimes I need quick power naps for energy. It takes a lot of work to ensure that my body is constantly damn fine."

Louis turned in his tracks and pretended to begin walking back.

"I'm sorry. I said I would behave."

"You're such an idiot sometimes," Louis said – his usual phrase to Harry – but surprisingly with a grin followed by a chuckle as he turned around again.

"You can be the boss for today and I will do whatever work you need me to do. Good?" Harry looked up but followed Louis with his eyes as he sat down in front of him. Louis nodded.

"Okay. So, what we need to do today is actually create the PowerPoint presentation for the class," Louis explained as Harry shuffled through his bag. "We have to use the recording we made, which I.... have in... what are you doing? Are you even listening?"

"Yeah. I have heard every single word you have said."

"What are you getting form your bag?"

"Something you need."

"And what is it that I need?"

Harry pulled out a large silver bottle, which reflected some of the sun's rays on its rounded edge, defining its shape. "It's hot chocolate. You're favourite."

"Why do I need that now?" Louis said, crossing his arms, trying to avoid succumbing to one of his commands or comments that constantly leave his mouth.

"Firstly, everyone needs their favourite thing sometimes. Also, you're freezing. I can see your breath condensing each time you exhale and you're shivering. I'm really not sure why you didn't bring a jacket, but I hope this hot chocolate helps," Harry said as he raised his arm with the beverage.

Louis cupped the warm, metallic bowl and sipped from it steaming, brown liquid. It caused him to close his eyes momentarily as the sweet chocolate gently calmed the shivering in his body he hadn't noticed before. "Right. Shall we begin to work?" Louis questioned as he nodded in appreciation.

"Yes. Let's begin."

The two worked through the beginning analysis of the novel until they eventually began using the tape recorder. Louis pressed the play button, hearing their technological voices through it, having forgotten what would come through it due to the abundance of education-based questions and answers.

"Even though the soulmates theme has a distinct characteristic and defining feature within this novel, as we had discussed previously, what is the definition of soulmates to you personally?"

Louis pressed the pause button on the recorder before Harry's voice could answer the question, and he slowly spun in the opposite direction to Harry. "What's wrong?" Harry asked before he leaned forward to play the recording.

"Don't play it... please." Louis' voice was soft and tender.

"Louis, is everything alright?"

"You know, it never really occurred to me until right now." Louis' eye began to wet. "The way you describe a soulmate after my question is just... just - I don't know." Louis began to shake his head. "Never mind. Just ignore me for a while. You probably don't care anyways."

"No. I won't do anything until you tell me what's making you feel hurt?"

"How do you know I'm hurt?"

"I can hear it in your voice. Trust me, it has happened to me too and those close to me."

"Well... when you describe what a soulmate is, I just realized that I miss those that were truly close to me. I have never had someone like the way you describe someone so perfectly."

A silence was between the two.

"Everyone has just abandoned me, especially recently," Louis continued. "It's like they can't handle the truth about someone and judge them until they leave."

"I know what you mean," Harry said, his head lowered. Louis turned to reveal crystal drops roll down his face "My brother, actually, was someone that was so dear to me and was my soulmate."

"Was?"

Another silence grew between them as they both stared into withered grass, the wind howling through the coming night.

Louis noticed Harry's arm by his thigh, which had a clenched hand and a raised thumb. When Louis raised his head again, Harry's lips were shaped in a soft, comforting smile.

"What are you doing?" Louis questioned.

"Generally, a thumb up means a simple 'okay'. But to us, every time we raise one of our thumbs, now, the other has to do the same back to show that everything will be better than just okay in the end, and if it at that exact moment isn't okay, then it means its not the end, and something is still worthy of keeping you going." Louis had never heard such sincerity in Harry's voice. "Plus, you don't have to listen to my annoying voice much if we just use our thumbs," Harry tried to lighten to mood.

Louis breathed out a chuckle through his tears. "I can live with that." He raised his thumb similarly to Harry and returned the gesture.


	8. The Bed

Through his living room window, Louis observed the sky with his eyes, yet his mind was in another dimension that did not correspond to the physical world. The gauzy clouds that rested in the sky in a thin layer, which folded into silk-like textures, sailed into positions that covered the sun and casted a haze of cool blue and grey shadows across the half-dead trees, withered grass and dark road. The orange, red and yellow filled leaves that had previously fallen onto the ground, creating puddles of colour on the grey street had been blown away by the pre-winter winds, which were crisp and sent chills down towards the tips of limbs if they touched a person.

Louis' mind was visualizing Harry and his thumb. The way he held it in solace. The way he describes its meaning. The way the side of lips curled softly upwards on his defined face. As Louis was creating images of their thumb gestures, his physical index finger was slowly rubbing his thumb on his right hand in circular motions. He didn't take notice of it, but perhaps it helped him better create images of their unifying action they had done yesterday.

His conscious mind returned to his body when his mother, Anna, asked, "Why are you rubbing your thumb so much?"

"I'm not quite sure, actually," Louis simply replied, not knowing what to say or explain something he wasn't aware he was doing.

"Um... okay. Sure," Anna replied turning around to walk to the front door. "I have to go to work now," Anna's voice trailed into the air as she walked further away from Louis. Anna mumbled a few more words, but Louis was unable to hear them as she disappeared through the front door. Before completely closing it, Annas shouted, "Goodbye!" As the crack between the door and the wall became smaller, the thin line of sunlight disappeared.

Without replying, Louis stood up and walked into his room. Even when Louis was walking and after his mom had asked him, he still circled his thumb with his finger, reminiscing the moments he had not only seen but felt with Harry. He walked into the bathroom, wanting to experience the calming prickles of crystal clear water droplets that would softly massage his skin in the shower.

While in the bathroom, Louis took out his phone and carefully placed it on the pale beige sink counter. Louis gripped the rims of the waistband of his sweatpants, which were an opaque crimson – his favourite colour – and shook out of them, letting his slender waist slither through the fabric. He pulled off his white t-shirt and threw it on the floor, feeling the air conditioning blow wind across his body, curving around his petite structure.

Before he was able to enter the shower to embrace the heat that would emit from the warm water, his phone created the notification pop. Viewing his screen, he saw that Harry's name barred across having sent a message on Instagram. Louis hesitantly moved his fingers towards his phone, not wanting to hear from Harry's usual arrogance, but Harry's tempting texts overthrew Louis' thinking as he opened the message, and after what had occurred yesterday, Louis' couldn't argue that Harry didn't have a sensitive more caring side.

Harry: Hey Lou, the assignment we have is due next week and it's already the weekend, when are we going to finish it up???

Louis: Can we talk about this a bit later? I was kind of just about to get in the shower.

Harry: So, you're naked, huh ;)

Louis: Well, I'm not gonna shower with my clothes on...

Louis tried to pull humor through his text message.

Harry: In my opinion clothes are better off than on most of the time.

But as usually harry took I the wrong way.

Louis: I'm not even going to reply to that.

Harry: I know you want to text me.

Louis: Where did you get that assumption? I just said I was not going to reply to that.

Harry: Well, you did reply again just now. And you were just going to go into the shower.

Louis: What does that have to do with anything?

Harry: Most people, when they see a text message before they go into the shower, they would usually wait to open and reply to it until they were done. You did the opposite, plus you were naked. That just shows how much you wanted to text me and didn't wait until you were done.

Louis: Ugh. Get over yourself.

Louis couldn't think of anything else to say.

Harry: Before I get you too busy with texting me, can we just decide when we will finish this assignment.

Louis: We can finish it today actually. Where do you want to meet up?

Harry: Maybe it's a bit cold right now to go our place by the tree. I mean you can just look at the sky and see its sadness. So, how about we meet up at my place?

Louis didn't take much notice into the fact that Harry called the tree their place. It was as if he subconsciously agreed that it was a place just for him and Harry.

Louis: Yeah sure. I don't mind.

Harry: Cool. I'll come meet you in front of your door in around an hour?

Louis: Sounds good. Bye.

Harry: See you later Lou.

As much as Louis hadn't realized Harry called it their place, he also didn't notice that Harry had started to call him Lou.

\---*---*---*---

Harry knocked on the wooden door, the three staccato sounds of his knuckles on the timber resonated through the house. Louis heard it from his room and instantly stood up from his bed to make his way down the stairs and to the front door.

When he opened the door, Louis examined the person standing in front of him. His eyes trailed up from Harry's chest to his eyes and the top of his hair. The sun was directly positioned behind his head, making it glow an illuminating golden line that embodied his head, the straight and angular lines of his jaw pointed form his face.

"So, are you ready?" Harry questioned with a one-sided smile.

"Yeah sure. Let's go."

As they walked together through the neighbourhood to get to Harry's house, Harry turned slightly to look at Louis and said, "My mom isn't home right now."

"And?"

"Well, that means it's just going to be you and me... at my house," Harry formed an almost sly grin, which Louis saw through the corner of his eye.

Louis stopped and turned halfway on his heel, but was stopped when he felt Harry's hand grab his upper arm, stopping him. "I'm only joking. You need to understand sarcasm sometimes," Harry chuckled, which seemed more forced than usual.

"Well, you're sarcasm isn't very good."

"Well, you don't have to be mean about it."

"Harry, that was sarcasm too," Louis said as he brushed against Harry's side to begin walking again in the correct direction.

Harry quickly followed, catching up to the left side of Louis. Without exchanging any words, Louis glanced at Harry through the corner of his eye, examining his body. Even though he would never tell him, he loved the way he moved, with total confidence, as though nothing in the world could harm him. It made him less fearful when he was around him. Less fearful of his heart eventually giving in. And now that Louis had seen other softer sides to Harry, the feeling only grew stronger.

They reached Harry's house only a couple of minutes later. It looked very similar to Louis', only the grey layer of paint on the plank wood was a tone cooler holding minimal emotion, perfectly reflecting the weather. As Harry unlocked the door to his house, Louis turned to face him. "Isn't your mother or father home?"

Harry didn't respond to the question but instead pushed the door open. He then slowly turned to Louis and Louis tried to look into Harry's eyes as he started to talk, but Harry didn't catch Louis' as if he wanted to avoid them, trying not to show Louis his feelings through them. "My dad... isn't here right now. And my mom she is working, so she won't come back yet." The respond seemed believable enough for Louis due to the tone of his voice, but Harry secretly didn't want to tell Louis the truth. He didn't want to say that his mother was actually in therapy, trying to escape the tightening spiral of anxiety, fear and depression – horrible side-effects to what had happened to the family.

Without questioning any further, Louis and Harry too of their jackets and shoes, before walking upstairs and begin working on their assignment.

\---*---*---*---

Harry was laying on the bed with his arms underneath his head and closed eyes, whilst Louis was looking at him. They had finished their assignment without any trouble or 'emotional obstacles' along the way, and now they were not doing anything productive.

"Can you stop staring at me?" Harry mumbled through almost un-parted lips, not opening his eyes.

"I wasn't," Louis immediately replied with a strong tone. He could feel his cheeks slightly stinging in pink prickles.

Harry didn't say anything else and Louis thought he had convinced him, but Harry wolfishly grinned as he laid on his back, portraying a feeling that he would do something mischievous.

"So... um..." Louis said as he was scanning Harry for a response but quickly moved his eyes away from him when Harry lifted his eyelids.

"What?"

"What should we do now?"

A heavy breath came from Harry before he simply said, "I don't know."

"Um... Okay," Louis said feeling awkward.

"Is there something you want to do?" Harry's eyes met Louis', a sharp emerald gaze that was intimidating yet calming at the same time. They flashed for a second, as if suggesting something, but Louis couldn't think of what he was trying to say.

"Well, I don't know."

"Then, we can just lay here." Harry closed his eyes again.

Louis sighed. "You're no fun right now."

"I'm having the best time of my life."

"Really?" Louis sarcastically questioned. "Just laying here? Doing nothing?"

"Yep."

"I thought you were someone who never bored those around him. The most charismatic, humorous and irresistible person."

"Well, all of those things are true," Harry sat up, and Louis could have sworn Harry seemed slightly offended in his tone. Moving onto his knees, Harry began closing the distance between him and Louis, who was sitting on the other edge of the bed. Even though Harry was using all four of his limbs to move, he never broke his eyes from Louis' ocean filled marbles.

"W-what are you doing?" Louis stuttered.

"Being more fun," Harry put on the same wolfish smile.

Louis forcefully leaned backwards, trying to reject the feeling of wanting Harry to look at him in that way. With each slow step forward, Louis' heart beat faster and faster. When Harry's arms had reached the sides of Louis, the previously pink prickles on his cheeks had reached a dark scarlet, spreading the redness across his face with each quickening beat of his heart. Even though Louis rarely approved of his heart beating quickly, it didn't' feel dangerous this time. Instead, it felt like colour was pumping through his blood, which caused his senses to feel more rich.

Warmth was coming off of Harry's body. Louis could not only see Harry's own colour that was flowing through his body, but he could feel them. The crimson red that evoked passion, the crystal blue radiated trust, the umber of protection veiled through his dark hair and his green gaze portrait reliability. Never had Louis seen such things in another person. Why the simple gesture of coming closer to Louis affected him so much that very moment could Louis not answer himself. He was unsure as to why he was feeling and visualizing such intimate things in Harry, something he had never shared with anyone.

Harry moved closer, even when Louis didn't think there was any more distance to close between them. The tips of their noses almost touched. Louis quickly glanced down at Harry's lips and Harry did the same to Louis. Without realizing it, Louis was parting his lips very subtly and slowly.

Louis looked back at Harry's eyes, waiting for something to happen. Harry still had the wolf-like smile as he stared into Louis' blue crystals, and Louis bit his lower lip, wanting something or someone on them.

Suddenly, a phone rang on the bedside table. As Harry rolled his eyes and leaned his head backwards, Louis felt disappointment leave his body in a silent sigh. The warmth from Harry was now gone again.

"Shit. I had forgotten some of my friends were coming over tonight," Harry said hurriedly as he answered the phone. "Hi. Yes. Okay cool. Yea, see you then."

"Well... I guess I'll have to go home then," Louis sadly smiled, as if he wanted to continue what had just happened.

"Oh, no, that's fine. You can stay if you want. The more company the better."

\---*---*---*---

Louis felt a firm hand shake his as two taller people stood outside in front of Harry's house door. "Hi. I'm Louis."

"Liam." Even though Liam was wearing a jacket, Louis could see the inked images on his hands. On his left, the design resembled three organic roses that were placed closely together, whilst his right portrayed of an eagle. Louis could see black lines feed into the sleeves of his jacket to form other intricate designs, but he couldn't make out what they were. Although the tattoos were intimidating, his smile was inviting and friendly.

Louis shook Zayn's hand in greeting and repeated his name to him, which to the other person replied with "Zayn." Zayn was thinner than Liam, muscle mass wise, but he still had a strong build, which was represented in his strong handshake. "It's nice to meet you, Louis."

"Yes. Very nice to meet you," Liam added.

"It's nice to meet you too," Louis returned with a smile.

As they walked in, Louis whispered to Harry. "I didn't realize you had a gang of tall people only."

Harry chuckled as his two friends went into the living room. "Well, Zayn isn't that tall, to be honest."

"You guys are making me feel very puny."

Harry turned to Louis bent his knees so that Louis didn't have to look up to him. "Would you like me to stand like this when I'm around you? Or, do you want to sit on my back when we are together?"

"Fuck off," Louis said humorously.

"Let's go."

Louis followed Harry into the living room where Zayn was inserting a disk into the DVD player underneath Harry's television, whilst Liam stretched across the sofa, resting his head on the elevated edge of it. "We also need some space here, you fat ass," Harry casually said as he slapped Liam's feet off of the sofa.

Harry sat down next to Liam, who was now upright, and Louis was next to Harry. "So what are we watching?" Louis questioned.

Harry tilted his head towards him. "We are completed The Lord of the Rings trilogy by watching The Return of the King. It's an annual thing we do since we lose the franchise. I really hope you don't mind watching it. We can watch something else if you don't like it."

"Oh, no. It's completely fine, Harry. I have seen the trilogy before and it was really good."

"That's awesome," Harry smiled, his dimple curving into his cheek.

As Zayn sat in the lounge chair that was diagonally placed to the sofa, the movie began.

\---*---*---*---

After about 1 hour and 30 minutes of the movie had passed, Harry came from the kitchen with beer. A low cheer came from Zayn and Liam as Harry handed them out. When he held out his arm to give Louis the can, Louis glanced at Harry apologetically.

"I'm sorry. I'm not that big of a fan of beer," Louis said, trying to decline the offer politely. In reality, his condition or disease wouldn't allow his heart to handle alcohol.

"Oh... That's fine. Don't worry about it. You can go to the kitchen and find something that's more your style."

Nodding his head, Louis stood up and made his way over to the kitchen as Harry sat down on the couch. Even though Louis had never been inside it, it didn't take long to navigate to the glass cupboard and take one out before going to the fridge. Scanning the cold shelves, Louis took out the milk carton and poured its contents into his glass.

He jumped up onto the kitchen counter, as there was no other place to sit, sat on it and started drinking his white beverage. Before he could consume 5% of the milk, Harry walked in.

"You're not coming back to sit with us?"

"Of course, I am. I just wanted to finish drinking first. Besides, why did you leave the living room?"

"Oh, they needed a bathroom break from the movie, so it's paused for now."

Louis simply nodded and lifted his glass to continue drinking. As the glass touched his lips, and before he could tilt it upwards, he was stopped as Harry's hand wrapped around the glass. He silently took it out of Louis' hand.

Lifting his eyebrows, Louis expected an explanation, but he didn't receive one. Instead, Harry poured the milk into a saucepan. "What are you doing?" Louis finally questioned.

"Making your favourite." Harry looked at Louis after he had finished pouring the milk into the metal pan and walked towards him. It reminded Louis of the moment he had shared with Harry in his room. When Harry was, again, extremely close to Louis, he reached upwards to open the cupboard above Louis' head.

Harry's strong chest was almost resting on Louis' head, and the defined features of it were visible through his shirt, as Louis breathed quietly, yet quickly with the increase of his heart rate as it had done before. When Harry leaned closer to reach further into the cupboard the bottom lining of Harry's shirt fell forward and lifted slightly as he stretched his arms into it. Louis could see the rim of his underwear and the beginning of his v-lines on his lower abdomen.

Suddenly, Harry's shirt went back to normal as he stood upright in front of Louis with the cocoa powder in his hand, and Louis' gaze on Harry's stomach stopped as he instantly looked down. Harry proceeded to add the cocoa powder to the saucepan before turning on the heating.

Zayn came into the kitchen and Harry looked up at him as he was slowly stirring in the mixture. "Zayn, would you mind continuing this while I use the bathroom since you finished using it?"

"Not at all," Zayn replied as Harry handed him the birch wooden mixer and soon left the room. "Hey, Louis. Can you pass me the sugar? It's in the cupboard above you."

Louis turned around and looked up to the cupboard that Harry had just been in. "Can you just hold my phone for me, please?" Louis held out his hand before he turned around again, not wanting to drop it while standing on the countertop. "I don't want to accidentally kick it off the counter when I'm standing, and I don't have any pockets in these pants."

"Sure. No problem." Zayn took kit form Louis and slid it down his pocket.

After having retrieved the sugar and given it to Zayn, a question burned in Louis' mind as the perfect opportunity to ask it had come.

"Do you know anything about Damian?" Louis tried to sound extremely curious in his voice.

"What do you mean?" Zayn questioned rather than answering, still looking at the heating milk and powder.

"Well, I met Damian a couple of days ago in the hallway in school," Louis began to explain, "and he came up to say I should watch out for those who I hang out and associate with. But, as soon as Harry showed up Damian left without wanting to speak to him, almost as if he was scared of him."

"It's not in my place to say."

"Why not?"

"It's not fair if I tell you about someone else's past. In my opinion, someone's past can be good or bad, and what they choose to reveal is up to them."

"But isn't holding back aspects of your life almost lying to the other person?"

"To be honest, the best way to become close to someone is not to change them from the negative pasts that they have shared, but only seek and help them reveal the greatest versions of themselves that have been brought from the past."

"So, they have history." Louis accepted the fact that Zayn didn't want to explain something of Harry's own past. With Zayn's opinion, Louis felt wrong in asking someone else about something that belonged to another.

Zayn didn't reply, but instead, he sighed, continuing to stir. Just at that moment, Harry walked into the kitchen again.

"The hot chocolate is done now, I think," Zayn said as he turned his head towards Harry.

"Great," Harry half smiled as he walked over to collect a mug. He slowly poured some of the brown liquid into it before handing it over to Louis as Zayn sat back down in the cream coloured lounge chair in the living room.

The steam of the hot chocolate rose in sweet swirls above the mug, which slithered into Louis' nose, creating folds of aroma in it, kindling his sweet tooth before sipping on the hot surface, ensuring he wouldn't burn his tongue.

"Is it any good, Lou?" Harry questioned with a hopeful tone, as Louis took a larger gulp than his previous sips.

With rounded cheeks and a mouth filled with hot chocolate, Louis nodded with a small smile that was followed by Harry's chuckle.

"You look adorable sometimes." That was the first sentence Louis had heard that came from his mouth that didn't portray arrogance or self-fulness when talking about looks. A soft smile etched across Harry's face that wasn't the usual sly or wolfish kind.

Louis wanted to say something back but was caught in Harry's eyes, making whatever he intended to say melt like warm butter on top of his tongue.

"Should we go back to the living room. I think they're waiting for us."

\---*---*---*---

"Shit."

"What is it, Lou?"

"I just realized that Zayn left the house with Liam without me getting my phone back," Louis said frantically. "And my mom is the one that has the keys to the house, and I forgot the second pair because I'm an idiot."

"Don't worry, don't worry. You can just use my phone and call her." Harry generously handed Louis his phone before Louis tapped in his mother's phone number.

Two rings go by before Anna answers the call.

"Hey, Louis."

"Hi, mom. So, basically, the reason I'm calling you on this phone number is because I'm borrowing my friend's since someone walked off with mine while they were carrying it for me since I didn't have any pockets."

"Will you get it back, though?"

"Yes, don't worry about that. And I forgot to bring the second pair of keys form the house so I can't get in, so I was wondering if you were home, so that I could get in."

"Yes, yes. Don't worry. I'm home right now. I finished work about an hour ago."

"Oh. Okay. I'll see you, then. Bye."

Louis took the phone away from his ear.

"So... what did your mom say. Is she home?"

Louis opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it when he reminisced what had happened between him and Harry. He parted his lips again, "No, actually. She... um... she had to stay overnight for her job."

"Oh... Okay." There was a silence between them. "I have a spare blanket and pillow if you want to sleep here tonight."

Louis' heart rate beat faster again. "Is that really okay? Even for your mom?"

"Yeah. She also has to stay overnight at her job," Harry lied. "She works as a travel manager, so she is gone a couple of days sometimes." He lied again.

"Ok. Okay." Another silence came between them, as if both didn't know how to act.

\---*---*---*---

Harry pulled out a blanket to the other side of the large bed that Louis and Harry had sat on previously in the day. He threw down some extra pillows, more than they needed before he pulled down his pants.

"What are you doing?" Louis quickly asked with Harry's pants have way down his legs.

"Well, I'm not going to sleep with all of my clothes on." He continued to pull them down until he kicked them across the floor.

"I am," Louis said confidently, as if to make a point.

"Won't you get too warm?"

"No." Louis crossed his arms, trying not to look down towards Harry's underwear.

"Suit yourself," Harry said with a quick shrug of his shoulders before he folded his arms and pulled his shirt up and above his head. His upper torso was now in full view of Louis, and he couldn't stop examining it with his eyes.

The defining curvature and hard muscle of his chest was the perfect canvas for the two bird tattoos that were inked on his body diagonally. Below his chest were slightly faint, yet prominent linings of his abdominal muscles, which were smooth and inviting to touch. Louis' eyes went further down until he could see-

"Hello?" Harry was waving his hand from across the bed.

"Um... yeah... what?" Louis stuttered out words.

"I asked you if you were going to get in. You kind of just froze and stared at... me," Harry formed his usual sly smile.

Louis tried to shake off what he had done by rolling his eyes and quickly going into the bed. Harry soon followed with a chuckle into the bed sheets on the opposite side.

"I suggest we make a barrier between us. Just to be on the safe side." Louis grabbed most of the pillows and set them in a straight line down the middle of the bed. "So, you can have your side and I can have my side."

"It's my bed, so arn't both sides mine?"

"That's not what I meant. Like, with this barrier, we would have our own personal space in the bed."

Harry sarcastically scoffed before laying down on his back and staring at the ceiling. Louis did the same. "It's probably for your own good that you put up that barrier. Otherwise, you won't keep your hands to yourself on your side."

Louis quickly tilted his way towards Harry and saw his iconic grin form as the sides of his lips twitched upwards. Louis wanted to argue, but before he could speak, Harry's phone made a short sound, which was followed by Harry taking it from his bedside table and unlocking it.

"It says here your mom is tired of waiting for you at home." Harry's grin grew wider along with Louis' eyes. He had completely forgotten his mom was waiting for him to get home. "It seems as if you have lied to me. Probably just so you could stay here for the night as well."

Before Louis could react, Harry started tapping on the phone screen to reply to the message. "Louis is fine," Harry began speaking out his text message, "he is at... neighbour's house because he finds me irresistible and won't stay away from me."

Louis leaped over to Harry's side of the bed and tried to take Harry's phone away from him, but Harry easily avoided Louis hands by simply stretching away from. "Lou. What did we say about personal space? Stay on your side." Harry pushed Louis across the bed towards his side again with his foot. 

"Don't you dare send that message!"

"Don't worry, I won't. I'm only joking. But it's very clear that you only wanted to stay here tonight to stay with me." Louis turned around and grunted in annoyance. "See? I told you that you liked me."

"Ugh. Can you just tell her I slept over because we worked all day and I got really tired or something?"

"Will do."

"Goodnight, Parry."


	9. Nightmares and Typewriters

The morning sun produced waves of orange, which acted as fire piercing through the crystal-clear skies and washed rustic values on the metallic rims and its glass of the bedroom window as it peaked up from the horizon line. Even though the yellow orb seemed to warm the air through its slightly golden rays, the weather was still relatively cold, and getting colder towards the winter months.

Louis' chest nut hair was spread across the white pillow that he rested his head on. His breathing was light and mellow – the sounds of colourful dreams and a peaceful slumber. As the sun rays lifted through the room, they aligned on Louis' face. His previously soft breathing hitched as his eye lids slowly lifted to reveal Harry's clean room.

Louis' vision was half blurred, and the colour of the atmosphere and sun made it seem unreasonably early. Even though Louis was drooping through reality and dream with slowly closing and lifting eyes lids, he couldn't help but notice he was quite far towards the edge of the bed. Quickly glancing at the square, white clock, he read the time to be 5:23 AM, which made his tired limbs fall further into numbness, enhanced through the widening of his mouth to form a long-lasting yawn. Since Louis didn't want to accidently fall of the bed, nor was planning to wake up 5:23 AM on a Saturday, he wiggled his lower torso, most prominently his hips, backwards, slowly sliding inwards on the bed.

Suddenly, Louis felt the touch of another lower body against his hips, which made him stop moving. The similar warmth that Louis had once felt emanated from the body, making him understand that he had moved against Harry's body, which was laying towards him. Harry was motionless and in a deep sleep; however, he was still able to emit a radiating energy that conveyed of contentment, which brought forth serenity in Louis that felt as if it was slowly mending his heart. This pulsating feeling from Harry made Louis feel safe, and whilst being halfway on the bridge of dream to reality, he moved closer to Harry's body until his lower back touched Harry's abdomen and his upper back rested on his chest.

The hard muscles pressed against him, and he could feel the slow rise and fall of his chest through each breath, which Louis, without noticing, eventually imitated, as if they were one unifying emotion. Even though Harrys' body made Louis feel warmer through its affectionate pulses, Louis could still feel occasional kisses of cold air brush against his shoulder. Using the arm that was against the bed and underneath the side of his body, he lifted it behind him and tugged on what he now held on to with his fingertips, which he believed to be the blanket. He pulled the blanket over his shoulder and rested the rest of it near his head.

Right before his eye lids locked against his eyes and fell into another dream, Louis caught a blurred glance that the blanket he had pulled was actually Harry's hand. Harry's arm was instead resting on Louis shoulder, but instead of trying to remove it or give it a second thought, Louis drifted back into his slumber, now against Harry's body with his arm wrapped like a blanket around him.

\---*---*---*---

Louis dreamt of the day, years ago, his grandfather gave him his classical typewriter. He had had this dream before and he knew every detail of it perfectly.

The typewriter was pure black at first and quick glances, but with closer and more focused visualization of it, the black reflected a polished undertone of coolness that was only visible when light reflected its transparent glass layer. When light reflected off of it, an invigorating obsidian sparkle soaked the darkness of the charcoal, which gave it a midnight feel of imagination. The keys, which were extended on silver stilts, were rounded and concaved buttons that produced short clicking sounds that shivered peacefully and deliciously down Louis' spine.

His grandfather was holding it out towards Louis with a proud posture that was intimidating, much like his character. He could see his grandfather's hands hold it by its sides, and even though his hands were strong and wide, he held it with great delicacy, making sure not to drop it.

"Now, you have to take great care of this for me, Louis," his voice cracked from the aging of his vocal chords.

Louis wasn't sure what to say, only staring at the magnificent contraption used for writing. He lifted his head slowly, still keeping his eyes on the typewriter as the hues that enveloped its materials were mesmerizing. "This has been passed down through two generations and you will, now, be the third."

There was a pause between the two. Louis' small hands raised slowly, almost scared to touch the presented object, but with slow movements, Louis brushed the tips of his fingers against the smooth and glossy surface of the typewriter. The touch sent a pulse of creativity through Louis' arm, the buttons longing to be pressed and the paper being pressed with ink and marks to form a world that portrayed a sense of wonder.

"The typewriter has been used to write the past, present and now I want you to use it to write the future," Louis' grandfather said with a hopeful tone in his voice.

Louis was about to look up to greet his grandfather's eyes, but he consciously forcefully pulled his eyes in another direction, not wanting to see what he was expecting. Louis' head was trembling from the imaginative and self-created force that wanted him to tilt his head upwards. Having no more energy left, he let his dream move him the way it wanted without any mercy, with his emotions and expressions suddenly being out of control.

"Thank you," Louis raised his head with bright eyes of gratification to look at his grandfather, "grandfath-"

The rim of Louis' eyes suddenly burned with a layer of wetness, not only in the dream, but also in reality. Even though he already knew what would happen but what he saw at the end of his dream always made him feel guilty and sorry.

A veil of darkness was draped across his grandfather's face, even when they were in the perfectly lit room of his living room. As his dream body accepted and held the typewriter, before placing it down, his grandfather leaned in to engulf Louis is a hug. His face was close to Louis', and the moment their cheeks almost touched, the dream froze, as if a frame in a movie had been lost, removed or torn out with an emotion of rage and hate. The blackness that filled his grandfather's face didn't brighten to reveal the loving, kind and passionate elder Louis was inspired to begin writing from, and from the frozen body that slightly leaned over Louis, came a voice that was an almost whisper; the same one the dream always ended in.

"How could you do this to me, Louis?"

Louis felt sweat trickle down his forehead and on to the pillow as he jerked his clenched eye lids open. He could feel the same layer of tears threatening to roll down his cheeks as it had done in his dream. Without making a single sound, the only thing Louis could do was silently cry.

Through his trembles, Louis parted his lips slowly, before uttering a whisper that was similar to his grandfather's in his dream, "I-I didn't mean to..."

\---*---*---*---

Louis followed the sweet aroma through the house. It was a thick, yet silky smell that, again, satisfied his sweet tooth. As Louis made his way through the house with the aroma being his navigation, he came to the familiar door to the kitchen, where Harry had previously made hot chocolate. He could feel the smell puff occasionally through the tiny cracks in the wooden door, and when he had wrapped his right hand around the handle, he swiftly wiped any remaining wetness from his eyes with his other hand, hoping Harry, who he was assuming was in the kitchen, wouldn't notice.

When Louis hesitantly opened the door, after having pressed down a clicked the handle open, the aroma which had led him to the kitchen became more prominent, as the crack of the door opened and widened with the push of his hand. He wasn't sure what to expect, but he wouldn't have guessed Harry was making waffles.

Louis saw a stack of them on a plate next to Harry; they were a golden-brown colour with a rim of crisp and burnt umber, outlining their fluffy shape. Harry had his back turned to Louis, lowering the lid of the waffle iron, resulting in a slow sizzling sound, as the hot metal baked through the liquid batter.

"Good morning, Lou," Harry said with a hint of a hoarse morning tone to his usual deep voice, whilst looking out of the window overlooking the front yard. His voice made Louis' insides tremble slightly. Even though Louis hadn't said anything, Harry knew he was there.

"Uh... yeah. Hi. Good morning."

"Why do you sound so shocked," Harry chuckled, still looking in the opposite direction, but through the low laugh, Louis could see his bright expression.

"I just wasn't expecting someone to be making waffles."

"Well," Harry turned around and crossed his arms. "Do you not think I can cook?"

"That's not what I was saying," Louis sarcastically said with a thin line of his lips.

Harry lifted the sides of his cheeks, a smile playing on his lips. Harry's eyes examined Louis subtly; however, Louis clearly noticed what he was doing. As his eyes moved up to Louis' face, the smile quickly formed into a concerned look.

"What?" Louis questioned.

"Your eyes." Harry moved his finger to the corner of his own eye as he said his sentence. "They're swollen."

Louis abruptly turned his head away from Harry, ensuring their eye contact broke. As he wiped his eyes with a swift movement and rubbed them with embarrassment, causing his heart to induce a stinging pain from his condition; Louis could hear Harry walking over to him. Louis felt the light touch of four fingers brush against his tender cheek. The touch sent electricity through his upper torso, reaching his heart and making the sting mellow, before the palm of Harry's hand rested on Louis' chin and lifted it slowly towards him. It was also the first time Louis had truly accepted the touch that Harry wanted to give. 

Louis stared into Harry's eyes; blue on green and green on blue. Harry's iris shifted from a piercing green to a softer moss, as if his eyes portrayed of sympathy as they dilated. "Lou... tell me what's wrong."

"It's...just," Louis started, shaking his head as he slightly pressed into Harry's large hand against his cheeks, wanting the embrace, "nothing."

"Louis, I don't want to pry or force you to tell me. If you're uncomfortable, then that's fine. Just know that I'm here if you want to talk."

Harry was about to let go off Louis' cheek, but he softly caressed it underneath Louis' eye where a tear longed to roll down. The simple stroke was enough to comfort Louis and his reluctance in explaining what had happened. Louis, still seeing a moss filled circles, took a heavy, yet silent breath, before parting his lips as Harry lowered his hand.

"Occasionally, I have a dream, which I dreamt this morning, that randomly decides to appear in my head. The thing is, it doesn't feel like a dream; it feels so real to me, like it's invading my head, as if it were a disease."

"What is the dream about?" Harry asked.

"I'll get to it. Basically," Louis looked down at his feet, whilst inhaling deeply, getting ready to say something he has never told anyone. "I am in my living room and my grandfather is there. It's the day he gives me the classical typewriter that had been passed down the family line. It was filled with colour and I would always long to go back and dream it again, but now..." a pause happened between them. "it's mundane and cold, and... I c-can't see my g-grandfather's face in it."

"Why?" The sincere tone in Harry's deep voice bled through his question.

"I still have the typewriter and I would use it every day of my life. But, at one point it just wouldn't work, it didn't function. After that, his face was gone from the dream and," Louis began to tremble through his words, and tears began to burn the rim of his eyes, "I have forgotten what... he looks like. I know, it sounds so stupid," Louis was unable to form words and his knees became weak, as if he was crippling and his heart felt wounded, not only from the Myocarditis, but it felt like a tear in his heart that could only be healed with love didn't close.

Harry embraced Louis, supporting him before he fell. Louis turned his head and pressed against Harry's chest with his cheekbone as his arms travelled to his back where his fingers leisurely creased around Harry's smooth and lean back muscles. With the side of his face dug into the taller man's chest, Louis' closed his eyes to the tune of Harry's heart beats, which were strong, yet calm.

Through Louis' tears, he whispered, "It's like the typewriter was the last memory I had of him after he died," he lifted his head and met with Harry's eyes, "and when it broke, the memory of him broke with it and disappeared."

Harry held Louis' shoulders and moved him, so he was standing in front of him again. "Louis, don't fear or be sad over what you have forgotten. The beauty of sometimes forgetting is being able to rebuild the memories. When you do, it will no longer be a figment of your imagination or dream but a new line in your old story."

At the end of Harry's sentence, he held up his thumb in their own symbol. Louis lifted the sides of his cheeks in a gentle smile and returned the gesture, reminiscing on its meaning.

"Now," Harry began, breaking the silence between them with a broad smile, "let's dig into our waffles."

Louis chuckled.


	10. Slipping

"Goodbye, Louis," Harry waved, standing outside with a thin jumper over his t-shirt, which clung to his chest and hung off of it. Cold rhythmically pressed against the nape of Harry's neck, as if the wind was pulsing or breathing. Harry internally burped in pleasure, causing swirls of aroma from the waffles to prickle on his tongue.

"Bye, Parry," Louis said as he was walking backwards down the pathway.

"Are you ever going to learn my name?" Harry sarcastically put an offending tone to his voice as he raised his arms in question, before he shoved them into his pockets again.

"Wait, is that not it? How awkward," Louis smirked.

Harry rolled his eyes, watching the charming blue-eyed man turn around, his rear muscle was notably protuberant through each step. Harry wasn't sure if it was him noticing it for the first time, or if Louis was doing it on purpose.

When Louis was half way down the stone pavement, a navy-blue car slowly rode into the drive way situated in front of the house; however, Louis didn't take much notice to it. Julia, Harry's mother, the mother of a lost child and a widow, stepped out onto the pavement, keeping a flat smile with bare emotions, as if expressions were becoming a struggle to fake in front of others. Harry noticed that when Julia turned to Louis, she forcefully pulled her lips into a smile and moved her shoulder backwards, presenting with a more structured posture.

Louis turned around to the soft sound, an almost whisper only heard in the dark, which came from Julia, "Hello."

Louis turned to Julia, who's voice was almost only carried through the soft wind that whistled in Louis' ears. Louis jerked his head to look at Harry's eyes with a glisten he couldn't describe that shaded his sapphires for a millisecond, before he turned back to Harry's mother. Louis extended his arm, resulting in a stiff handshake.

"Yeah, hi," Louis began, "my name's Louis Tomlinson."

"Oh," Julia began to raise her voice, attempting to sound more lively. "I'm Julia Styles. Harry's mother."

"It's very nice to meet you," Louis released his hand from the shake reluctantly, as if he could tell she was fragile physically and emotionally.

"It's very nice to meet you too. At least now I can put a face to the person my son keeps talking about," Julia turns her head to Harry, who's cheeks were beginning to feel warm. They never usually felt this way when his mother involved another person in a conversation, but for some reason, Harry felt different when Louis was that person. Something was changing in Harry and it was all Louis' fault.

Even though it wasn't noticeable on Harry's cheeks, he could see pink flush through Louis', which made the edges of Harry's lips twitch to a soft smile. "Okay, that's enough mom," Harry stated with an attempt to bring humour through his sentence as slowly jogged over and softly pulled on Julia's arms, trying not to catch the gaze that Louis was giving him.

As they reached the front porch, which creaked as their shows tapped onto them with each step, Harry turned to wave Louis goodbye again and he could clearly see the wine red circles on Louis' cheeks, which were like ruby welts, as he turned and left. Maybe this time Louis' cheeks were a bit too red. With both of their backs turned, Louis walking in one direction down the pavement and into the street and Harry walking with his mother into the house, they both shook their heads simultaneously, trying not to think of the moment too much. They both found it difficult.

"So," Harry cleared a rasp in his voice as he looked into his mother's eyes, wanting to sound more comforting. "How were the therapy sessions?"

"I don't think I should go to them anymore."

"What? Why?" Astonishment flushed Harry's tone.

"I just... feel like there isn't a way I can move on," sorrow began to heave in her throat. "Especially not with therapy sessions."

Harry could see a transparent glint in Julia's eyes as they were filling with water.

"It's not about moving on. Well, to some extent." Harry slowly walked closer towards Anna. "It's more about getting help for-"

"For what?" Julia gave a thick sound to her voice, interrupting Harry, as she moved twitched her shoulder that Harry was trying to reach. He hesitated with his hand, which he wanted to use to begin an embrace from her shoulder. However, with her sudden movement away from him, it felt as if she didn't want it. "Are they supposed to help me forget them?" Julia began to raise her voice even further. "Are they supposed to help me through the moments I thought were my fault?" Remorse was puncturing her words, and tears began tip over the rim of her eyes. 

Harry lifted his arm once more, feeling obligated to wipe away the tears, as with each tear that fell from her chin, a drip of despair and regret formed in Harry's heart. Again, Julia moved away from Harry's hand, and suddenly swiftly walked past him headed for a door. Harry remembered the night he had come to her once in her bedroom and told her 'put your hand in my hand and I promise I will never let go.' It began to feel like she was slipping out of his grasp.

As she opened it and had half her body inside, Harry turned and with a tremble in his voice that he had never let himself be heard before came illustrated through his sentence, "You can't blame yourself for this if that's what you think. Especially not with David. I-t isn't your fault, mom."

Julia was slipping further from his hand as she stared into Harry's eyes with the slight turn of her head. "No... I am beginning to think it's yours."

She slipped from his grasp completely.

And it hurt.

\---*---*---*---

Louis rubbed his cheeks, the faint pink on them began to blend into his skin colour. With the heat in his cheeks fading, cold air stung the tips of his ears and he muffled them into the palms of his hand as he strolled up his pavement to the front door. When he walked into his house, he heard the cheerful and bright laughter of his mother, Anna, which could bring the darkest shadows a sparkle of the light. The laugh made Louis smile warm heartedly; it even brought heat to his ears. He made his way towards the kitchen to find his mother calling Barry, Louis' father, on Skype.

"Hey, mom," Louis said as he leaned against the frame of the door, crossing his arms in suspicion.

"Oh," Anna turned on her kitchen counter stool, revealing her amused face, "hey, Louis."

"What's so funny?"

Anna didn't reply, but Barry's sly voice came from the computer; the voice that could give off the stench of mischief. "Well, I have a way with words."

Louis rolled his eyes and slightly shook his head with humour as he grinned at the situation. Julia's lips lifted on one side, morphing her previously ebullient smile to a more tremulous one.

"Okay, what is it now?" Louis pushed off the door frame and lifted his arms in question with the cock of an eye brow.

Rather than answering Louis' question, Anna jerked her hanging legs, so that her stool spun in the direction of the computer. "Louis was just at a sleepover with a boy," Anna stated with a tone that sounded like her voice twinkled.

"Oh, wow. Go, Louis," Barry quietly cheered, Louis noticing that his father lifted his right arm with a clenched fist to simulate a cheer as Louis leaned over his mother's shoulder.

"You guys are such children, sometimes." Louis couldn't help but chuckle as he rested his chin on Anna's shoulder.

"Come on. We're only teasing."

"Yeah." Anna turned her head to look at Louis, who lifted his to meet her eyes. "It's just that... ever since your condition you have barely wanted to stay near people. Let alone have a sleepover. We're just happy for you that you're more confident in yourself."

"This guy, as well, must be special." Louis could see the pixelated motion of a wink on Barry's face.

Yeah, Louis thought. He is pretty special.

"I will leave you love birds alone. Dad remember to keep saving those lives," Louis said as he swung his head backwards with the turn of his body.

"My surgeon hands can only work so much, but I'm trying my best. You can count on me."

"I know I can," Louis shouted without turning his head as he was half way up the stairs.

Louis ambled through his half open door, and as soon as he emerged through and into his room, a cold wind brushed through his ruffled hair and enveloped his button nose. The wind came from his open window above his desk, which revealed the same clear sky Louis had seen in the morning of Harry's room, but with a more yellow-white value glistening on top of the orb floating in the ocean sky. Louis instantly shut the window; however, he stopped in front of it, looking at the blue colours that every person in the world was viewing. Leaning closer to the glass of his window and over his desk, he tipped over the cylindrical bottles that held his medical pills and capsules, reminding him he was required to take them.

After having endured the dreadful and exhaustive process of swallowing circular shapes compacted with powder that tasted of manure, he went to his closet to change. When he opened the closet door, he remained still, staring into the hanging clothes, whilst his gaze was being pulled downwards by a silent calling. It almost forced his head downwards where he saw the classical typewriter he wished never broke. Ever since his first encounter with his grandfather in his nightmare, Louis hasn't used it or tried to fix it. He was internally fearing that if he attempted to do anything with the typewriter, more damage could be caused not only to the object, but also to his dreams.

Louis' eyes hooked onto the broken piece and memory, mesmerised by the dark violet and black blends of hues that radiated through the thin glass lamination. He slowly bent down to sit on one knee and reluctantly raised his right arm, Louis' index finger trembling. As he touched it, images of his grandfather's covered face burned in his head, like a wound that wouldn't heal, making him pull his arm back and shut the closet doors, as if he was trying to keep in fire trying to escape.

At the moment Louis clutched his hand to his chest, he heard the doorbell ring from downstairs, to which he shook his head, disintegrating thoughts of the typewriter. When he was half way down the stair case he called out, "I'll take it," secretly hoping it was Harry.

To Louis' slight disappointment, Zayn stood at the other end of the door. He portrayed a smile of gentle expression, which Louis' returned before speaking. "Oh hey, Zayn." Louis noticed a car in the street in front of his house with a woman in the passenger seat.

"Heyo." Silence filled the air for a moment as Zayn's chocolate filled marbles met with Louis' eyes.

"So..." Louis averted his gaze from Zayn's as he broke the silence.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm here to return your phone. The one you forgot was in my pocket." Zayn pulled out Louis' mobile phone, handling it in between his index finger and thumb.

"Thank you. You're so kind." Louis felt the cold metal casing against his palm as Zayn placed the phone on it, followed by Louis wrapping his fingers around it.

"Well, you could say I'm a little bit of everything wrapped into one."

"Oh, is that what people say about you?" Louis inquired as he slid his phone into the pocket to his jeans.

"Not at all, because I'm not one to get involved into what other people think of me. So, I decided myself what I am," Zayn said as he pressed his hand to his chest.

"Wow. Independent. You have good views on," Louis couldn't find the correct word to use as he looked down at his shoes, "...stuff."

Zayn chuckled at Louis' slight awkwardness. "I'm glad you don't have a passcode or anything on your phone."

"What did you do?" Louis' face morphed into a blend of confusion and surprise.

"Don't worry. I don't do anything that would hurt the other person," Zayn explained. 

"Then... what did you do?"

"I just added mine and Liam's phone number." Zayn created the same gentle smiled he had greeted Louis with, only this time it was wider.

"Why?" Louis inquired.

"I just thought that it wouldn't hurt to get some new friends. Besides, you seem pretty interesting and I, personally and most likely Liam, would like to get to know you better."

"I'm interesting?"

"Louis," Zayn signed quickly, "you ask way too many questions."

Before Louis could react, the car behind Zayn made a quick audible honk, causing his heart to skip a beat and Zayn to turn in the direction of the car. From the window, the woman leaned out and said, "Babe, I don't want to make you feel rushed, but we're going to be late."

Zayn turned back to Louis. "Yeah, sorry. I have to go now." Zayn started to walk backwards and before he turned around he smirked and said, "And if there is anything you need, then you can count on me or Liam. Just give us a call." With that, Zayn walked around to the other side of the car and pressed on the gas pedal.

Louis smiled as he patted his pocket with his phone in. I'm making new friends, Louis thought. Even though Louis knew that Harry, Zayn and Liam were great people, a thought still stuck in the back of his head:

With new friends... I have more people to disappoint and push away when I tell them about my condition.


End file.
